#but if someone were just peripherally aware of

[cyberphuck]

My best friend in high school and I looked so much alike that we were mistaken for twins a LOT. She played the clarinet and talked about being Christian and got good grades. Someone was bothering me once and I hit him with a metal folding chair. It was always weird when people referred to *her* as "[my] evil twin," because clearly I was the evil twin.

people always talk about evil clones like oooh a dark mirror oohh what if you saw what are cruel person you were/are capable of becoming. and well yes but what if you were the evil clone. what if you looked in the mirror and what you saw was so bright it blinded you. what if you had to know exactly how good you could have been.

[ttsukiimi]

❛ I FVCKED MY BODYGUARD! ❜

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬  ⎯ Toji fushiguro is nothing but a bodyguard—or at least those are the words you keep telling everyone including yourself. But when you’re under him, moaning his name, can you really say that?

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬  ⎯ bodyguard!toji fushiguro x actress!reader, smut (mdni), n!pple sucking & n!pple play, implied size difference, slight manhandling, softdom! & bigd!ck!toji, unprotected sx, mentions of ichiji, reader referred to as (doll, baby, princess)

'Famous actress 'suki' ttsukiimi facing backlash after allegedly being seen in public holding hands with her bodyguard! Fans step forward with pictures as proof!'

Your eyes rolled as you saw the news headline, and you wondered if someone actually sat down and wrote it.

For starters, Toji Fushiguro was nothing more than your bodyguard—and, of course, he had to accompany you in public because that was his job! And, while the holding hands aspect appeared incriminating, he was merely doing it to keep you steady as you went through the crowd.

You made an effort to clear your head for the upcoming night, but your mood soured with bitter irritation. Thoughts of Toji suddenly sprang to mind as you were trying to declutter your mind. You couldn't help but wander off to the feeling of his big hand encasing your smaller one, the waft of his cologne into your nostrils as he walked beside you and tried his best to politely push people out of the way.

He was just perfect in every aspect—tall, muscular, intimidating, you couldn't count how many times you'd wanted a simple touch from him to lead to something else.

Your phone snapped you out of your daydreaming, the chime of your ringtone echoing throughout the almost empty hotel room. Quickly, almost embarrassingly so, you read the contact's name, and inwardly smiled to yourself. Just who you wanted.

"Hello?" your sugary voice rung throughout the speaker. Toji could feel himself heat up from your voice alone, imagining the way your plump lips moved as you talked, and he cleared his throat.

"We're waiting for you outside, doll. Hurry up, yeah?" he mumbled, letting his hand hang back on the car's headrest.

You let out an acknowledging hum, not daring to speak with the way you clenched your thighs together—his tone and the deepness of his voice alone sending a shock of electricity through you. Not to mention the pet name.

Soon enough, you met with Toji and your chauffer, Ichiji, outside. You'd made sure to wear something risqué, and both men were more than glad to gaze at you through their peripheral, though toji made no attempt to hide his staring. 

The ride to your wardrobe stylist was silent, save for a few impatient grumbles from toji on how long the ride was going to take. He could really act so immature sometimes.

୨୧

You stepped out of the room, velvet material clinging to your body like second skin and gleamed at Toji. "What do you think?"

His throat congealed with breath. You appeared breathtaking; the stylist having done a phenomenal job of selecting dresses that accentuate your complexion and emphasize your curves.

Toji gave a playful suck of his teeth. "Eh."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone on a nearby table and checked the time. It was almost time to get going.

"Tojii, please help me choose. Y'know I can't rely on Ichiji." That, however, was a lie; if anyone was aware of actress-appropriate style, it was him .You merely wanted a justification to continue showing Toji yourself in small little dresses. Not that he couldn't admit he liked watching you do that.

Once again, the scarred-lipped man sucked his teeth. "Go with the black one, with the back cutout, I guess."

୨୧

It was finally time for the nomination. Toji grinned to himself as he saw you on stage, light sparkling in your eyes, making you appear ethereal. You competed with other actresses for best of the year.

The announcer began to speak, her voice sweet, but not as much as yours, he reasoned. And it would be an understatement to say that Toji, and the entire audience, were upset not to hear your name.

"Who the fuck even is that?" he whispered under his breath, but his eyes softened as he noticed the smile on your face when you heard your name for the second time.

Everyone's eyes were drawn to you as you strutted over to receive your award, fascinated by the glow you emitted, and the audience erupted in cheers. Toji let out a small cheer just for you.

When the event was finally done and the paparazzi and bothersome interviewers had left, you let out a sigh of relief. Toji took your hand and guided you to the waiting limousine, opening the door for you.

You hoped this wouldn't cause another news headline.

"Thanks," you mumbled before succumbing to tiredness and falling asleep, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

When you awoke, you were comfortably positioned on your hotel room's bed, with the blankets warming your restless body. Your initial inclination was to search around for Toji, but there was no sign of him. You sprang out of bed and began searching for him, only to find him just as he was about to leave.

He tilted his head. "Did I wake you?"

You shook yours. "No, I—Can you stay?" The sentence slipped through your lips before you could catch it. Your eyes widened and your cheeks burned with embarrassment, even more so when you timidly looked up at him to find him smirking.

"Doll." he hummed, walking towards you, making you look at him with a finger under your chin. "When are ya gonna just say it?"

Your heartbeat skyrocketed, not only from the contact and closeness of his huge body, but also from the look on his face.

"If you wanna fuck just say that."

Your knees buckled under your weight, Toji catching you in his arms. You both looked at each other's lips and back up, and in his arms, you felt like you were under a trance.

Lips soon collided. One kiss led to a make-out session, and that led to you being manhandled and thrown onto the bed. Toji crawled on after you, the angry erection under his black slacks poking through.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Toji.."

He hushed you with a quick peck, the unfastening of his belt and zipper sounding throughout the room. "Open your legs."

His hands lit fires on your skin as he slid them down to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart and whistling at the wetness gathered on your folds. "You're soaked baby. Ain't even touched you yet."

You whined and looked away, breath hitching as he teasingly gathered your slick on the tip of his cock. Toji clenched his jaw as he pushed the head in, everything in him resisting from thrusting everything in—knowing how small you were compared to him.

Who knew he'd be fucking the person he was supposed to protect?

"Breathe, baby,"

Nodding, you tried your best to follow his order. But, when he started moving, you completely lost it.

Strings upon strings of moans poured from your mouth, your legs locking around his waist as he found a pace. And even though to you his pace was pleasurable and a bit too much simultaneously, he was holding back.

Toji hadn't fucked such a greedy cunt in years, with the way you were sucking him in, it felt like you wanted to suck him dry. He hit your sweet spot easily with each thrust, groaning as he snaked his hands up your torso and pulled the neckline of your dress down to reveal your tits to him. "Knew they were pretty."

He leaned his head down to suck on your pebbled nipples, driving his girth in and out of you painfully fast now. Switching his attention to your other nub, Toji rolled your previous nipple between his fingers as he suckled on it.

Your back arched up into his touch and gave him more access to your body. "'S too much!"

"You'll take it," he rasped into your ear, hitting the spot that had you seeing stars so effortlessly it felt criminal. Your vision filled with white and blurred, liquid heat rippling through your lower stomach.

You gasped as you hadn't felt such euphoria in years, your job not leaving much time for love affairs, or for any affairs at that.

"I Think 'm close,"

"Ya think, princess?" he chuckled, deep and booming in your ear, his rhythm cruel and harsh on your poor, sensitive pussy.

Toji could feel himself slowly being hurled towards the edge of his high, and he could feel yours too with the way you clamped extra tight down on him. 

"C'mon, baby. Cum on my cock." he ordered, and your body instantly complied with his words. Your back arched further off the sheets, a broken cry bubbling from deep within your chest as you climaxed.

Toji's high came teetering soon after yours, and he made quick work of pulling himself out and letting his seed spurt over your stomach and tits. Your bodies were both messy and sweaty, and he appreciated the sight under him.

You had completely soaked the sheets, and Toji took pride in knowing he was the one who made you.

With a drawn-out sigh, he plopped down beside you.

"You think they'll write news about this too?"

"So you also saw that, huh?"

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: During your shift you overhear a conversation that kind of sends you spiraling.

Warnings: Language, angst, self-esteem issues, hurt with MAJOR comfort, and protective Steve.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,924

A/N: Just a little something, cause’ I’m on my period and feeling it…

You aren’t acting like your usual self - zero pep in your step, no smiles from anything or for anyone. Steve doesn’t expect that from you all of the time, but he can sense something is majorly wrong. You simply give him a whispered hey as you climb into the beemer’s passenger, buckling your seatbelt and lowering your gaze to the small wallet you’d brought with you today. It’s when he leans across the console, leather creaking under his movements, to kiss you - that he is for surely locked in on something being up with you. You’re pulling yourself away from his lips before they can even touch your cheek.

At the start of your relationship, Steve was always doing checklists, to see if you were unnerved about, even the smallest of things (which never had anything to do with him, half the time, as he found out). He tried to go over what he could’ve done wrong, how he needed to fix that. But as the trust with the new stage of your relationship grew, the romance had cemented itself - Steve felt like he had to do this less and less with you. You were a team - secure and honest.

You, however, are caught into the expanse of your head, strangled by those vines that are always undoing themselves from their silence to torment you. Copious, self-negative, berating thoughts that are meant to tear you apart. You manage to see Steve frown in your peripheral, which makes your lips part in an attempt to start your explanation. He’s more than ready to receive.

“Hey, Harrington. You have a few minutes?”

That same sugary, sickly sweet voice from minutes prior. You and your boyfriend both look in time to see her blond hair lean into the window, arms propped, pink lined lips speaking, bangles accentuated on her thin wrists, and the overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Your chest burns with the nerve of her, throat watering with unshed tears — your body feeling as if it’s slipped a flight of stairs for everyone to witness, see your smoldering humiliation as it crackles across your chest. Old Steve might be cocky, might even be rude. But your best-friend turned boyfriend - he is no longer that way.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” He’s a little hesitant, his focus coming back onto you. His knee juts from his foot bouncing on the floor, eager to leave her over bearing interjection into your conversation. He’s pissed at her and her friend standing idly nearby, as you begin to shut down what you were about to open up to him about.

Her friend giggles from beside her and you audibly swallow, using your pinky to play with the newest charm Steve had added to your bracelet (a little baseball glove, because you’re always ‘catching his heart’). It’s your tell-tale nervous sign, he’s aware. The girl in the window starts talking again before he can say anything. She shows off neon pink talons for nails, pearly whites grinning at Steve. “I just got these done about a half an hour ago. And something is wrong with my car, so I obviously need to pop the hood, but I don’t want to ruin them. Like, you know what I mean?”

The eye roll that leaves you, all emotions aside, Steve is amused by. He reaches for your hand, and you let him squeeze. “Do you mind, baby? I’ll just pop the hood and they can call someone if it needs something else done.”

This makes you feel a little better, the girl having to hide her displeasure underneath her smile, which turns into a smirk as Steve exits the car and follows them to her convertible. She makes a show in her tight tube top and jean shorts, not getting to the hood immediately. You only imagine what they’re saying to Steve. But you do remember what they’ve just said about you.

“I mean, he picks her up daily and I don’t even think she offers him gas money.”

You’d stopped organizing the front candy counter to lean around and listen in. Steve picks you up everyday, never asking for anything return - even if you always offer. They have to mean you, right? Your breath had started quickening, focus wavering. The rush of burgundy is within your sights as he pulls up storefront, shades on, head tilted back, arm out the window with a cigarette in hand.

“He’s dating her though, so why would she?”

“Please. He needs to be asked if he is. I don’t buy it, at all. I mean, Nancy Wheeler was a goody two shoes, but at least she was pretty. Buckley is a fucking motor mouth, but she’s also okay.”

Former insecurities when you got together. Even as a friend as you crushed on him, these thoughts had plagued you. You were heated, body light.

“He never dated Buckley.”

A deep sigh. “Obviously, but he clung to her like a puppy. He’s downgraded with this one. She’s been hanging on him for years and I don’t know if he warrants it or just tolerates it.”

Don’t make any noise, don’t say a word. You should stop listening, say something. All things that you didn’t do, just kept listening to them dump on you.

“She’s the real reason Harrington struck out all the time. WHO the fuck wants to date someone that allows a loser like that to be attached to their hip non-stop? I mean, is it a kind, charitable thing to do? Sure. But he needs to draw a line between the good and the bad, babe.”

Your dress had felt to tight on your body - one you wore to surprise Steve today. Excited to be with him for the weekend, casting aside conflicting schedules. Your face became dull, heartbeat slowing, eyes glossing over. You swore you could taste the acidic bile of breakfast on your tongue.

“She’s been that ugly two for one special, kills all of his chances by hanging around him. The real reason he struck out so much.”

You turn your back to the conversation, despite still having been able to hear it. No use in trying to block it out, for it had found you in surround sound.

“Didn’t he ask you on a date, Chelsea? And you turned him down?”

She scoffed. “My point exactly. She makes him less appealing. He’s just with her because he thinks that he should be, and because she’s the one that’s around him too much. He peaked in high school, but she’s certainly holding that fine ass of his back. Can you imagine the sex he’s wasting on that?”

You’re so caught up in your momentary memories, that you don’t even see Steve as he piles back into the car, his entire body lax, but his shoulders tense. His face holds a reserved softness for you. His voice, though, that takes on an entirely different undertone of mixed meanings - somewhere between a raging anger and a featherlight craving to provide solace. He’s saying something that takes you a few seconds to catch up with, your blurred vision noticeable. It confirms his suspicions that he’d accumulated by being hit on at the girl’s car.

“They came from your store, didn’t they? What did they say to you?” He sighs, trying to let that show, so that you don’t mistake it for annoyance.

“It’s… nothing. I’m okay.“

“Baby…” The way it’s practically pled, it makes you look at him. You meet concerned, slightly widened, mossy eyes, sun reflected in the enriching pools. His grown out caramel hair is a mess, shades pushed back to sit atop, his sun kissed skin visible through his white Kenny G shirt, along with overgrown chest hair, his chain length bracelet and neck chain (a gift from you for his latest birthday), and his ripped jeans he’d cut to make capri shorts.

He definitely shouldn’t be yours.

You reach to fiddle with the chain, that nervous habit back again. And Steve settles into your touch as it drums across his jugular. He tilts his head to kiss to the side of your fingers when they brush by. You pause to retreat, but he’s swift to take your hand in his, playing with your bracelet this time. How massive he looks in comparison.

You feel a calloused finger brush beneath your chin, bringing it up. His eyes are darting back and forth across your face. “Tell me what they said to you. I know that’s why you’re upset.”

“Were they talking about me?” Immediate humiliation settles in.

He’s quick to correct. “No, no. I just mean that when they started in with the flirting after I opened the hood, I was uncomfortable and I know you were. And I also remember that they did come from the video store, too.”

Your voice breaks and he slides his spare hand to your neck’s nape, bringing your forehead to his as you begin to tell him everything that was said. Safe to say, he’s NOT happy by the time that you’re finished, and he does a double take to look for their car. It’s already gone and he curses. “Shit. That’s fucking bullshit!”

He can’t fathom the process that he went through as you told him each and every single word heard. His tongue is tied, he wants to plead with you to know that it’s not true, that all of those things have NEVER been like that. There’s only one truth. And so, he tries with all his heart to explain it to you.

“God, honey, you have to know that when I’m with you, I don’t see anything else, can’t see anyone else. For years, it’s always just been you. I don’t care about who I was before. The man I am now, he wants his life to be with yours. He’s pretty gone on you, like in a stupid, I’ll almost die for you again, even when you tell me not to - kind of way, and probably more.”

Your heart rate has started speeding up again, caught beneath your breastbone, trying to find your throat, but can’t get through its tightness. You’re openly crying now, to which Steve solves by thumbing away, the bridge of his nose nudging yours, mouth laying his next statement in to cross. “Words, they’re not my strong point, you know that. But I want you to know that I’d learn a fucking dictionary in every single language if it meant I could tell you in better terms, how much you mean to me, how perfect you are, how beautiful, funny, and smart, how sexy, how tough, how loyal, how honest, how creative, how strong, and so much fuckin’ more... How what they said was the farthest thing from the truth, that they’re just jealous, airheaded bimbos.”

You let your palms find his face, the ache in your body causing a prickling in your toes. You’re pliant against his chest as he unbuckles your belt and his, pinching your waist and using his forearm to halfway hoist you middle way over the console to meet his mouth, all the while he’s whispering between every kiss, “I love you. I love you. So fucking much. I love you, honey.”

You don’t have to stop kissing to tell him that you love him back. Steve can feel it in the way that you hold onto him, tears changing, rolling from your cheeks and dripping onto his lips. I love you.

[self-awared]

The Discovery

Tw/Cw: Using Male MC, mentions of sleep paralysis, kind of short

Rover always knew there was someone watching him.

He figured it out when he felt his body move without his control. His suspicions were confirmed when, while he was trying to figure out what this controlling force was, was suddenly teleported to a rock in the middle of no where.

His head was forced to turn and stare in a random direction, where he saw you for the first time. You weren't a person, just a floating ball of light. But he could hear you...

He could hear your mumbles of how long something was taking to load, and how aggravated you were about forgetting a password.

Finally, he heard your little squeal, and his hand was forced to raise in your direction.

He was shocked when the light came closer and closer to his hand, before entering his body, and he was teleported back to where he was before. This time, he wasn't in control again.

When he felt your presence leave his body, he quickly informed Baizhi of what the hell had just happened.

Rumors spread like wildfire. More and more people began to experience your presence taking control of their body.

It started with the people that Rover had come in contact with when he first woke up. Then, more people that he had interacted with began seeing the little light in their peripheral vision.

A news article did an interview with Rover, and published the following in a newspaper:

Reporter: "What is it like to be controlled by this strange light?"

Rover: "It's hard to describe. It's almost like you're aware of what you're doing, and what's going on around you, but you have no control over your body."

Reporter: "Could it be described as a sort of sleep paralysis?"

Rover: "Precisely."

Reporter: "Do you see the light when you're in this state?"

Rover: "Yes. I see it in my peripheral vision. It's like the light is controlling me in a sort of third-person perspective."

Reporter: "Do you think this light has any bad intentions?"

Rover: "No, I don't. One thing I've noticed is that they're always helping me, whether it helping me achieve some big goal, or just collecting flowers."

Reporter: "Can the light speak?"

Rover laughs.

Rover: Of course. I hear it all the time. Especially whenever I meet someone new.

Reporter: "Are they good or bad things?"

Rover: "...you don't want to know."

[sturnioz]

‘BAD HABITS’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 6.6k

❝you know you're my favourite.❞

content warnings. toxic situationship, jealousy, heavy mentions of alcohol and weed, dealer!matt indications, explicit content, manhandling, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, mean!matt, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie.

Don’t look at him.

You mentally tell yourself as you forcibly tear your gaze away from Matt who enters into the house party with a girl at his side, capturing a glimpse in your peripheral vision of how his hand rests at the base of her back, guiding her through the crowded room.

Stop looking at him.

You remind yourself again when your gaze inevitably draws back to him, and from across the room, you find yourself fixated on his every move. You watch as he greets his brothers and friends with grins and handshakes before settling onto the couch they’re occupying. The girl follows, gracefully positioning herself beside Matt, her hands adorned with sharp manicured nails gliding onto his thigh.

Stop.

Your tongue prods at your cheek in annoyance as you watch how close they lean into each other to speak, how Matt’s words seem to make her giggle and she flicks her hair behind her shoulder when Matt smiles at her, clearly enjoying his obvious flirtatious comments. Irritated, your grip tightens around the cup you’ve been nursing all night, and yor forcefully tear your eyes away from the scene as Matt’s gaze finally meets yours.

The relationship you have with Matt is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, and it’s not one you’re eager to let go of anytime soon. Matt is a friend—someone who you can rely on when things go south, someone who picks you up in his car for late-night food runs and smokes weed until the sun rises, and he’s someone who you actively sleep with just to get rid of that dull ache between your thighs.

You hate how well he knows your body, sometimes even better than you know it yourself. You hate how easy it is for him to whisper things into your ear, igniting something within you that leaves you breathless and yearning for more. You hate how his touch makes you weak and desperate, craving for more than just his hands. You hate how his eyes alone can have you on your knees in an instant, and his cock weighing heavily on your tongue.

But you know deep down that you have some sort of effect on Matt too, always finding it amusing how easy it was to get him alone with you, to make him drop whatever he was doing just to be in your presence. It, admittedly, brings you a lot of satisfaction in knowing that you both have some kind of similar hold over each other.

Although, there have been a handful of moments where he has ignored or rejected you, much like tonight.

It was you who had invited him to come to this party.

It was you that brought it up to him when you were fucking in the backseat of his car. 

It was you that had asked him to accompany you, only for you to be shut down and told that he wasn’t interested in ‘some lame house party’, and instead revealing that he had other plans for that night.

Before you even arrived at the party earlier, you saw the Snapchat story posted by the girl who is currently clinging to his side like a leech. The image was blurry, but you could make out her holding two joints, with a caption tagging Matt to thank him, and promising a fun night. 

At first, you figured it was a deal, being aware that Matt sometimes sells his weed on the side for extra cash, but you never expected that his ‘other plans’ would involve bringing her to a party he rejected coming to in the first place.

It honestly made you fucking pissed.

You mentally chastise yourself to get a grip and you scoff loudly, tilting your head back and gulping down the rest of your drink, the alcohol searing your throat and momentarily distracting you from your own fiery emotions. You lower the cup, swiping the back of your hand at the corner of your lips and wiping away any lingering traces of the liquid just as your best friend nears with you a drunken flush.

“Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Anna exclaims as she flings her arms around your shoulders for a hug, but her embrace falters as she notices the sour expression on your face. “What’s happened?”

“I’m out,” You say, gesturing towards your empty cup with a tight lipped smile, trying to hold yourself back from admitting—”Oh. And Matt’s here.”

“I thought he said no to coming?” Anna’s brows knit together in confusion, and she glances over your shoulder in search, catching a glimpse of Matt and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. But her expression quickly shifts to one of exasperation as she rolls her eyes, directing her attention back to you. “Are we really surprised? You know exactly what Matt’s like.”

“I know.” You hate it.

Anna continues, “He’s always been like this.”

“I know.” You really hate it.

Anna takes a moment to stare at you before she sighs, her shoulders slumping as she crosses her arms over her front. “Yet, it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re thinking about him right now.”

She’s got you there. “I know…”

Anna firmly places her hands on your cheeks, and grips you with enough force to have you stare straight into her determined eyes. “Forget him. He’s just some guy you’re fucking occasionally, and you know what that means?” You blink in response, causing her lips to curl into a grin. “It means you are single and free to fuck anyone you want. We’re here to have fun, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

She’s right. 

Of course she’s right.

Her words bring a genuine smile to your lips and you nod in agreement, determined to not let something so silly ruin the rest of your night.

Anna wastes no time she excuses herself, returning back to you quickly with fresh drinks and tapping her cup against yours with a mischievous grin. You both take a few hearty gulps, allowing the alcohol to course through your veins and lighten your mood, head buzzing as she slips her fingers through yours to tug you away from your current position.

You mingle with a few of her other friends you’re familiar with, diving deep in conversations, laughing at jokes shared among the group, throwing flirtatious comments here and there when someone shows clear interest in you.

But you weren’t interested in them.

Not at all.

Not when you can still see Matt in your line of vision, who remains in his position on the couch, engrossed in his own conversation with his brothers, friends, and the girl who has yet to leave his side, seemingly unwilling to leave.

Your jaw locks tight when Matt occasionally meets your gaze, rubbing his palms on his jean-cladded thighs and shifting in his seat, manspreading as he relaxes back against the cushions. Your eyes narrow, fighting the urge to roll them when the girl beside him snuggles in closer, offering a smile that could make anyone swoon, but he’s not even looking at her now.

He’s fully looking at you.

Matt’s head tilts to the side slightly, the corner of his lips curling into a subtle smirk, leaving you with a mix of conflicting emotions that makes your head spin. On one hand, there’s a part of you that wants to wipe that look off of his face, fueled by your annoyance and frustration. But on the other hand, there’s a part of you that can’t help but be drawn to that smirk, wanting to bask in the attention and keep his gaze fixed permanently on you and only you.

A bitter taste lingers on the tip of your tongue as Matt’s attention is taken away from you, watching as he leans his head down to listen to the girl who whispers in his ear, her fingertips resting on his jawline to keep him close. A forced laugh escapes your lips, the sound tinged with bitterness and your tongue prods at the insane of your cheek. 

You rip your gaze away from the pair, redirecting your focus on Anna who looks at you with a confused expression, clearly bewildered by your sudden laughter and you try to shake off that ugly feeling that has settled within you, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Anna spots that immediately.

She calls out your name, wanting to question your odd behaviour but her words come to a half when the guy beside you grabs the attention of the group. Was it Jason? Jaiden? You can’t quite remember, and frankly you don’t really care enough to remember. But you remain silent as he speaks, asking if anyone knows where he can buy weed at the party, if there is anyone who knows who sells as he assures that he has the cash.

Matt. The name flickers in your mind almost instantly, and you meet Anna’s gaze as she subtly shakes her head at you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“I know someone,” You announce, and Anna sighs deeply in defeat. You ignore her reaction as you extend your hand towards the guy. “Give me the money. I’ll go get it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in surprise, hesitating for a moment despite already having the dollar bills ready in the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind getting it—”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off abruptly, curling your fingers around the bills to take into your own hands. You turn on your heels, making a beeline directly towards Matt as you slip through the crowd, pushing through the bodies with determination and fire coursing through your veins, fingers grasping the money tighter as you get closer, eyes locked in on Matt as he watches you near.

As you stand in front of him, your gaze shifts to the girl by his side, tongue clicking against your teeth with bitterness tinging your thoughts as you observe her shuffling closer. Her hand now rests on Matt’s bicep, fingers sinking into the fabric of his hoodie.

The sight alone stirs a mixture of annoyance, frustration, and jealousy in the pit of your stomach and in the moment, you find yourself in an internal struggle to either make some snarky or bitchy comment in hopes to get Matt to understand how pissed off you truly are, or to continue with what you were originally here for. 

“Pre-rolls.” Is what you say with a monotone and direct voice, deciding to get straight to the point, and you extend your hand as you show Matt the money, making your intention clear.

Matt’s eyes briefly lower to the money before returning to meet yours, “For you or someone else?”

“Does it matter?” You reply sharply. “Pre-rolled joints, please.”

“For someone else then,” You hear Matt mutter under his breath as he digs inside the pocket of his jeans to pull out exactly what you need, but he’s quick to pull it out of reach as you go to snatch it from his grasp. Your frustration grows within you as you glare at him, but he takes no notice of your expression as he asks, “Are you smoking too?”

You huff, “Obviously.”

You watch as Matt reaches back into his pocket and your demeanour shifts slightly as he pulls out another batch of pre-rolls, ones you’re all too familiar with as you see the pink-coloured skins. He knows you prefer spliffs over joints. You want to continue being annoyed and angry with how he knows you all too well but yet, deep down, you feel touched as your heart thumps wildly in your chest and a flutter of warmth swirls in the pit of your stomach at the seemingly thoughtful gesture.

You bite down on your tongue, not wanting to let him know how much that simple action affected you so much, “I don’t have enough money for two.”

“You don’t pay for yours anyways.” Matt states matter-of-factly as he takes the money for the one pre-roll but hands you the two. It’s true, you think, curling your fingers around the two pre-rolls he's given you. You’ve never paid him when asking for a smoke… he doesn’t let you pay him.

“You giving out freebies?” The girl beside him speaks up for the first time, her tone playful as she decides to jump in on the conversation. She nudges Matt’s shoulder as she teases, “Pink skins too? How come I don’t get that treatment?”

“Because I’m his favourite,” You find yourself replying before your brain can register it, sending her a forced tight-lipped smile as she looks up at you in surprise, not expecting you to be the one to respond. But you couldn’t care less. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I was talking more about the pink skins,” She snips back at you, and your tongue prods at your cheek once again, fighting off the urge to laugh as she turns to look at Matt as she smiles. “I like pink.”

“They’re for her.” Matt says as he gestures towards you with a nod of his head. The girl’s face drops, her smile completely fading and a sense of satisfaction washes over you. You offer her a sweet sickly smile in return before leaving, heading straight back to your group who are patiently waiting for you to come back.

Anna comes to stand beside you as you and the joint over to Jason (you managed to overhear his name as you were nearing closer to the group) and he grins in victory, thank you with a wet, dramatic smooch to your cheek before lighting it up, taking a hit and passing it around the group.

Anna leans her head down, disappointment clear in her tone as she speaks to you in hushed whispers, ridiculing you for suggesting Matt in the first place, but her tone soon shifts to curiosity and wonder, wanting to know what happened between you and Matt, and what you both had spoken about.

You’re partially honest with your answer, replying that the only topic of conversation was about the deal and that you were able to get exactly what you wanted and more as you showed her your own little gift. She grins, bumping her shoulder to yours proudly before jumping into a conversation with the others, taking the joint out of a friend's hand while you tuck yours away in your purse, saving it for later.

You had enough.

The irritation you feel becomes unbearable, unable to be masked by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

The sight of Matt and the girl still in the same position on the couch sitting close, sharing whispers and smiles. It gnaws at you despite your failed attempts to bury them with distractions by dancing with others and kissing others with lingering touches.

You’ve reached your breaking point.

You wish you were drunk enough to ignore everything and continue with the night, but unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case.

You want to leave.

Most importantly, you want to leave with Matt.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It would be so easy for you to leave without him, or even find someone else to go home with—that being Anna or some random stranger. But honestly, you couldn’t care less about the easy options. You never cared.

Abandoning your half-empty cup without a second thought, you leave Anna behind, not even bothering to fill her in on what you’re about to do. The sound of her questioning fades into the background as you make your way towards the living-room area with a determined stride.

As you approach closer, a sense of tunnel vision takes over; everything else seems to fade into the background too, sounds becoming distant whispers or muted, completely overshadowed by your thoughts and emotions.

You begin to second guess how this upcoming conversation would go. If Matt would actually leave with you this time if you asked. After all, he did say no to coming here with you… so why would he leave with you?

You internally scowl at yourself for even thinking about something so negative.

He’s wrapped around your finger just as much as you’re wrapped around his.

“I’m leaving,” You announce as soon as you stand in front of Matt, not even giving him enough time to react to your sudden appearance. He remains unbothered though, his gaze casually meeting yours as he lifts a soda can to his lips. His eyebrow raises in response, and without missing a beat, you continue, “Come home with me.”

The girl sitting beside Matt reacts with utter disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she scoffs at your audacity, her eyebrows knitting together at your words but you’re unfazed by her reaction. It doesn’t make you feel bad at all, not as your focus remains on Matt, waiting for his response.

And in that moment, you feel a sense of victory and satisfaction swell in your chest when Matt gives a simple nod of his head and rises from the couch, reaching for his car keys that are clipped to the belt loop of his jeans as he bids his brothers and friends goodbye.

“Wait!” The girl exclaims as she interrupts, tone filled with desperation as her hand shoots out, gripping Matt’s arm tightly, halting his movements. Her eyes shift towards you at first, giving you a harsh look before turning her attention back to Matt. “Are you serious right now? You were my ride here. How am I supposed to get home?”

You hold yourself back, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from responding, though your annoyance is clearly visible on your face. You keep silent, watching as Matt’s face remains impassive.

“That’s not my problem,” He states bluntly, removing her grip from his arm without hesitation, words devoid of any sympathy. “You’ll figure it out.”

The girl’s jaw drops even further, shocked at Matt’s sudden change in attitude and tone. A smug grin finds its way onto your lips, unable to contain that satisfaction bubbling within you, and you wave your fingers in her direction as Matt’s arm finds its way around your waist, resting his hand on your hip as he leads you out of the area.

As you’re leaving the building, Anna’s disappointed gaze lingers on you, but she still mouths for you to be careful and gestures for you to call her when you get home. You nod your head in promise, blowing her a kiss before turning away and leaving her behind.

The cold air brushes against your burning skin, but your mind is too preoccupied with a whirlwind of angry thoughts and unanswered questions, and the scowl on your face is clear. Matt continues to lead the way, guiding you toward his parked car in silence.

It’s deafening, and you hate it, intensifying the frustrations that build within you. 

You’re getting angrier.

You’re the first to climb into the vehicle, slamming the door of the passenger side with enough force it rattles the car. Matt, who seems completely oblivious to your anger (or just doesn’t take any notice), takes his place in the driver's seat, and his ongoing silence fuels your irritation even more. 

Without sparing you a glance, Matt inserts the key into the ignition and twists, setting the car’s engine rumbling to life. His attention is glued to the dashboard as he presses a few buttons to turn on the radio, playing a song you’re all too familiar with but not in the mood to vibe along with like you usually would.

Your frustration grows further when Matt casually drapes one arm around the back of your seat, focussing behind as he reverses then pulls out of the parking space, the car gradually gaining momentum as it merges onto the road. 

Settling back into your seat with your arms crossed tight over your chest, your gaze alternates between the side of Matt’s face and the road ahead. You’re aware that it would be best to stay quiet and allow yourself to calm down before questioning him, yet the curiosity mixed with annoyance within you refuses to be silenced.

You bite down on your tongue hard—you can do this.

… You can’t. 

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” You finally speak, unable to hold back your words. The bitterness seeps into your tone as you continue. “I thought you weren’t interested in ‘some lame house party’... what happened to that?”

Matt’s response comes with a nonchalant tone that irks you, “I’m not interested,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I had things planned, but plans changed.”

“Right,” You hum. “So you decided to come to a party, which I invited you to, with a girl?” You struggle to hide the tinge of jealousy in your voice.

Matt glances at you briefly, and a smirk slides onto his lips. His audacity strikes a nerve and you release a dry laugh, your tongue prodding at your cheek in disbelief.

“Jess was one of the people I was selling weed to tonight,” Matt explains casually. “Chris texted me while I was at her house that he was at this party, and he wanted to buy weed. I told him I’d drop by and give him some.”

Jess. Her name makes your face scrunch up in displeasure. “Okay. Then you somehow ended up coming to the party with Jess and stayed for the majority of the night.”

Matt grins, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. “She was actually planning to go to the party after she saw me. But once she found out that I was heading there, she asked if she could ride with me. I drove her, and when I realised Chris wasn’t outside, I was going to leave. Then Jess said she’d help me find him inside, so I went in.”

You mutter under your breath, the words escaping in a frustrated whisper, “Still doesn’t explain why you stayed.”

“I got caught up with my brothers and friends,” Matt responds simply, and his hand reaches over the centre console to rest on top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers. His touch attempts to soothe you, his voice softening. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” You lie through gritted teeth. “Just wish you would’ve at least told me you were coming, or came up and said hello when you arrived.”

“I’m sorry,” His apology is minimal, but his tone sounds sincere as his thumb draws circles on your skin. “Like I said, I wasn’t planning on staying,” Matt takes a quick glance over at you, that smirk returning. “Besides, you’re wearing that dress I like, sweetheart… walking up and saying hello wouldn’t be the first thing I’d do.”

You hum at that, twisting in your seat to face him, “And what exactly would you do?”

Matt answers without missing a beat, “The same thing I did last time I saw you at a party.”

The low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and your thighs squeeze together to relieve that sudden ache in your cunt, vividly remember that night qt a house party where he dragged you upstairs and fucked you silly in someone else’s bathroom, not caring that the mirror rattled against the wall and belongings off all sorts had fallen off the sink, creating a mess on the floor that neither of you bothered to clean up when leaving. 

“I don’t remember,” You lie, giving him a glossy smile. “I think you have to remind me.”

Matt looks out into the open road, “Do you see a bathroom anywhere?”

“Funny,” You roll your eyes, but you lean over to brush your fingers over his crotch. “You can just remind me here—”

“We’re not fucking in my car,” His words make your eyebrows raise in shock, and your mouth drops open with a scoff as you rip your hand away. Matt smiles, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Last time we were in here, you ruined my seats. That shit costs too much to clean, sweetheart.”

You’re bitter as you reply, “You didn’t seem to complain when you were desperate to make me cum over and over again.”

Matt’s laughter fills the car, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he shakes his head at your bitter attitude. The sound gets on your nerves immediately. You scoff once more, crossing your arms back over your chest and directing your gaze out the window, intentionally ignoring him for the rest of the journey. 

As the car turns onto your street and your home comes into view, you reach for your seatbelt. Once Matt parks the car outside your house, you swiftly unbuckle and slide out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut so hard that it rattles it again. The sound of Matt’s laughter only further irritates you.

With your house key in hand, you unlock the front door and step inside, feeling Matt’s presence behind you. His warmth brushes against your back, but you refuse to acknowledge it, striding towards your room.

Standing by your vanity table, you remove your sparkly earrings, your focus solely on the task at hand as you bite the skin of your cheek with a scowl.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me,” Matt drawls, his voice reaching your eyes. You raise your head to meet his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. He’s leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his lips despite the feigned upset tone in his voice. He continues, “You told me to come home with you, and now you’re giving me this treatment? All because I wouldn’t fuck you in my car? That’s cold, sweetheart.”

You huff quietly, even though you know deep down that Matt’s words hold some truth. You continue to stay quiet, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it back in its designated spot.

Matt’s tongue pokes at his cheek as he continues, “I could’ve just stayed with Jess—”

You immediately bristle, and you whirl around to face him. “You’re not funny.”

Matt’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling. “Got you to finally talk to me, though.”

You let out a forced laugh, and you plant your hands firmly on your hips as you glare at Matt. “You know what? You can go—I don’t care. Go. Go back to the party and spend the rest of your night with Jess.”

“Hey,” Matt’s response is immediate as he moves toward you, standing right in front of you. His fingers reach up to grasp your jaw, the cool sensations of his rings stinging your warm skin. He playfully shakes your head, and a part of you wants to shove him away, but you remain still. “Enough, kid. You know I’d rather be here with you anyways.”

And you do. Deep down, you know that. 

But you love pushing his buttons, especially with the thrill it gives you.

Pressing further, you challenge him, “Do I actually?”

Matt’s voice hums with confidence. “Of course you do. You know you’re my favourite.”

You blink at him, unimpressed. “There are others?”

Matt sucks in a deep breath, his grip on your jaw tightening as a playful warning. You can’t help but grin now, pleased in your ability to get under his skin so easily. “You’re a pain in my ass, I swear.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you slide your arms around his shoulders, and his hand releases your jaw to rest at the base of your spine. His fingers put gentle pressure, urging you closer, and you willingly comply as you allow your chest to press against his.

Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck, the grin on your lips unfaltering as you continue to taunt him. “Pain in your ass, yet you still can’t get enough of me,” You then mockingly gasp, “Don’t tell me you like me, Matt?”

“Yeah, yeah, you wish,” Matt mutters dismissively, his head dipping low to press his lips to yours in a heated kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your veins. You respond eagerly without a moment of hesitation, matching his fervour, your lips moving in perfect sync.

Matt’s hand glides up from your lower spine to firmly grip the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him. The sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you fist the material of his hoodie in your grasp, ensuring that he stays close to you. 

As the kiss deepens, you feel a gentle nip of his teeth on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp at the pinch. Your lips part, giving him an invitation for his tongue to slip inside your mouth. The taste of him, the mingling of your breath, it’s intoxicating to you, and you want more.

The force of his kisses push you back against your vanity table, the impact causing a few of your belongings clattering to the ground. But you pay no mind, your focus is solely on Matt who stands between your parted thighs, his hands sliding beneath the bottom of your dress. 

“Lift your hips a lil f’me.” Matt orders you, and you listen. With his fingers that hook under the band of your panties, he pulls them down in one swift movement, discarding the lacy material carelessly to the side before his arm hooks around your back.

You yelp in surprise as he effortlessly lifts you up from the vanity table, and your legs instinctively lock around his hips to make sure you don’t fall, but it doesn’t matter when Matt drops you down on the bed with a bounce. 

Before you can fully register what happened, Matt’s hand curls around your ankle and he tugs you to the edge of the bed, and you watch with parted lips as his hand moves between your thighs to drag his middle finger through your slit. 

“You’re fucked soaked…” Matt hims as he lowers himself down, gazing up at you from your parted thighs. A silent gasp leaves your lips as his two fingers sink into your tight, wet heat. “You had so much to say earlier, and now you’re quiet. Does it feel too good?”

“Just shut up.” You bite back, and a smile breaks out onto Matt’s face, sending you a wink before he leans down. His tongue swirls against your sensitive clit, plunging his fingers into your cunt at a steady rhythm.

Breathy moans leave you as you try to watch Matt, but his free hand slowly creeps up your body and pushes down at your chest, making you fall back against the mattress with a huff. You’re reminded of the dress that’s still clinging to your body, making you regret not taking it off sooner, but all your worries and problems are pushed to the side when you feel Matt drapes your legs over his shoulders, closing him in.

“Fu—ah!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back arches off the bed. You’re unable to use your words, lost in the feeling of Matt sucking at your clit and the curl of his fingers against your spongy walls, brushing over that spot that has your thighs tightening around his hand.

One of your hands grip the bed sheet, and your other lands on top of his head, threading your fingers through the overgrown strands as you tug, eliciting a groan from his chest. You’re grinding your pussy against his face, desperate for more, and he doesn’t seem to mind, allowing you to use him as you please.

That’s until your legs soon fall from his shoulders when Matt forces them apart, spreading you out in front of him when he feels your climax approaching, and he leans back as he watches his fingers pump into you. The speed in which his fingers move has your legs closing around his hand, and his tongue clicks against his teeth in a sound of disapproval.

“Keep ‘em open,” Matt warns you, and when you fail to listen, his fingers slow down, causing you to glare at him. “Don’t look at me like that. What did I just say?” Your legs slowly part, and Matt nods his head. “That’s right…”

He picks up the speed once more, and he drives his fingers inside your cunt, a grin playing on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on yours, staring down at your face as he leans over you. You gasp loudly when his thumb rubs your clit for stimulation, and you immediately cum.

The squelching sound of your wetness is hard throughout the room along with your wailing, and your body shakes and your pussy contracts around his fingers. He’s laughing as he fingers you through your orgasm, watching as your body trembles and your hips rut against his hand.

You cry out in pleasure, your body shaking and your brain fuzzy as you slump back against the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Matt removes his fingers from your sensitive cunt, and you watch through hazed vision as he sucks them clean. The sight alone is enough to have a surge of energy rush through your veins, and you sit up to pull him into a kiss. Matt groans when your tongue slides into his mouth, and when he kneels in between your thighs, he takes hold of your wrists and guides your hands towards his belt. 

You immediately know what he wants you to do, and you comply. You unbuckle his belt hastily through hungry kisses, making quick work of the button and zipper, tugging the material down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers.

Usually, you would’ve completely rid him of his clothes and yourself. But on this specific night, you were too desperate to have him to go through with the task, and Matt seems to be feeling the same when he suddenly throws you around.

You huff as the air is knocked out of your lungs when you’re flipped onto your tummy, and you turn your head to the side, cheek mushed against your pillow as you watch Matt through your lashes. He’s fisting his cock, tip leaky and red, spreading his precum around the base. 

He tapes his cock on your puffy folds and you squirm, an irritated whine leaving your lips to which Matt smirks at.

You grit through your teeth, “Hurry up.”

“Just admiring the view,” Matt cheekily replies, giving you a wink as he taps your ass before his cock nudges between your folds. “Breathe.” He instructs you.

You bite back the remark that’s resting on the tip of your tongue, and you inhale deeply, only to let out a drawn out moan when Matt pushes himself inside, the familiarity of him stretching out your pussy makes your toes curl and fingers grip the bed sheets.

Once he’s fully seated inside your warmth, buried in you to the hilt, you feel his ringed hands slide up your spine beneath your dress, his blunt fingernails pressing into your skin as he drags his hand back down before gripping your hips, keeping you still as he begins to thrust.

“So wet ‘n tight for me, sweetheart…” Matt grunts, pinching your hips. He lays a firm slap on your ass. “So good f’me. Always so good.”

He repeatedly pumps in and out of you, gradually picking up his speed, and you find yourself moaning with each deep thrust of his hips. You fuck yourself back onto his cock when you feel his grip loosen on you, and your volume increases, mewling at the feeling of Matt’s cock fucking you so deep that it makes your head fuzzy.

You pant, almost drooling, “I wan’ more.”

“More?” Matt repeats with a chuckle, and his lips curl into a grin as he watches your ass bounce back on his cock. “I’m already deep inside your guts. What more could you possibly want?”

You give him a dark glare in warning, “Matt—”

“You already cum once too,” Matt tsks, and you feel his hand slip around your waist to slot between your thighs. You shiver when you feel the pads of his ringed fingers brush over your clit. “Fucking greedy, kid. You take, take, take…”

You gasp as his fingers start rubbing slow circles, and your pussy clamps around his cock. “Ah!”

“Good thing I’ll always give you what you want, right?”

Your mouth drops open, and your eyebrows knit together from the stimulation of Matt’s cock fucking into you and his fingers rubbing at your clit, the pleasure building. He’s grunting loudly behind you, his free hand giving harsh slaps to your ass and soothing over the sore area.

It surprises you when Matt’s hips start to slow down for a moment, and he bends over you to press a wet smooch to your cheek. You crane your neck awkwardly to capture his lips in a kiss, only lasting a few seconds before he straightens back up and resumes his pace.

“Good cum for me, sweetheart?” Matt asks when he feels the walls of your cunt flutter around him, knowing all too well. You nod your head quickly, and Matt smiles as he pinches your clit, eliciting a squeal from you. “Hold it.”

You gape at him, “Ho—you’re joking?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“I can’t wait!!” You hiss, shaking your head quickly, already feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy.

All Matt does is laugh at you, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he mutters about you always getting what you want, and you go to snap back to defend yourself, but the words fail to come out of your mouth when you feel his cock swell inside of your cunt, and with one harsh thrust of his hips, you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name.

He curses under his breath, trying his best to keep the momentum as he pushes further into your tightening walls, only for his orgasm to hit harshly. He’s hips jerk, his cock pumping you full of cum, and he’s breathing heavily as his hands rub your sides.

You’re sweaty and sticky, immediately regretting not taking off your dress the second he had you against the vanity table earlier. You grunt at the ache in your hips and lower back as Matt pulls his cock out of you, and you slump to the bed with a huff, allowing your body to relax while muttering quiet complaints.

Matt chuckles at your antics, and he reaches out, pressing his fingers into your lower back to massage you and you grin happily, melting at his touch. 

“Spoilt,” Matt states, and you lift your hand to give him the middle finger in retaliation. Matt grins and continues his ministrations for a few more minutes before he lets you go, causing you to jut your bottom lip out into a pout as you turn to look at him. “Easy, kid. You need to go pee, and then we’re gonna go shower. Get you cleaned up.”

A smirk makes its way onto your face as you tease, “How chivalrous.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He waves dismissively at you, and he stands up from your bed. He offers a hand out to you and you take it, feeling his fingers clasp around yours as he pulls you up, and he wraps a steady arm around your waist as your feet touch the ground. “I still got some weed leftover from the party, I’ll roll when we’re done. Pink skins for the princess, right?”

Feeling smug and confident, you raise your head high. “Right.”

© sturnioz

[bonniebird]

Helena's companion

Helena x Fem!Reader / Aemond x Fem!Reader

AN: Full on fix it fic. Started as Aemond x Reader but after the first episode I ended up just rescuing Helena. Not sorry. Hopefully people enjoy.

It hadn’t taken Aemond long to realise that people, for some inexplicable reason, assumed that the loss of one eye had robbed him of his peripheral vision in the other. It was how he had been able to read notes his grandfather assumed were just out of his eyeline or keep an eye on people who thought they were out of view.

Today was one such moment. Helena was sprawled across a thick blanket under the Weirwood tree of the Red Keep with her companion from the Reach. Aemond sat in the sun and studied the tree before him. Able to easily watch Helena and her friend without anyone questioning him. Aegon was otherwise detained and Aemond was taking advantage of not having him buzzing in his ear like a fat fly. Aemond was no fool, he was aware of your beauty. He just didn’t appreciate the lude way his brother admired it. Aegon would whisper about running hands over soft skin, the smell of your hair and the gentle fabrics running off your skin as you were undressed by rougher hands. Aemond stood abruptly to snap himself from such thoughts. The action drew the attention of the two girls under the tree but did little more to keep their curiosity as he awkwardly turned and retreated inside.

“Mother says that she had found more fabric in the colour you favour.” Helena said with a sweet smile as she laid her head back down on the long tube-like pillow. You turned your head away from Aemond’s retreating figure and smiled at her as you played with a long piece of grass, twirling it between your fingers, making it dance and spin. 

“I thought she could not?” You asked and Helena shook her head.

“The trader found out that she was looking for more. Grandfather has agreed to introduce him to someone in Old Town. He’s giving Mother enough for two more dresses.” Helena grinned and you beamed a happy smile at her.

“I shall not say a word about it until your mother tells me. She shall be happy to deliver the news after such hard work.” You said rather gleefully and Helena gave you an eager nod. The rest of the afternoon was spent whispering and gossiping about life within the keep until the sun became too hot and the two of you retreated.

Alicent came across the two as you walked, arms twined together and hands clutched. You smiled as you greeted her while Helena gave her mother the usual slightly over-eager greeting bestowed upon only a few people.

“Good afternoon Alicent.” You said and smiled, giving her the best curtsy you could while being clung to by Helena. Alicent smiled at you, a rare genuine smile that was an elusive sight from the queen nowadays.

“(Y/N). Helena dear, the children. They ask for you.” Alicent said and Helena nodded muttering that she would go to them. Helena let go of your arm but only after a promise that you would join her and the children after finding someone to bring food and drink to the room. Alicent watched her leave and then turned to tell you her news of the fabrics Helena had mentioned earlier.

“Helena has already told you.” Alicent said with some amusement. You crinkled your face and winced a little.

“She did. But she wished for me to keep quiet. She knows you worked hard and we wanted you to be the one to tell me. You know how Helena and secrets do not get along.” You said and smiled when Alicent nodded.

“Well. You will have new dresses soon. I am honoured to be able to find more of that fabric you love. I hear the maker has passed of old age. It is the last of it.” Alicent said as she walked with you to a clutch of maids. They each curtsied to Alicent who instructed them on what foods to take up to Helena before leading the way to Helena’s chambers.

“I shall have to save some of the fabric. I shall have your family sigil embroidered onto it as a keepsake. In case the dresses become worn.” You said and smiled at Alicent who seemed to appreciate the youthful offer. “Thank you.” 

“It has been my pleasure.” Alicent gave you another smile and reached out to squeeze your shoulder in a motherly way. She paused and frowned as if she had just remembered something. “You have not by chance seen Aemond?”

“He was with us earlier but he hurried off. I am not sure where he went.” You answered sincerely. Alicent nodded and thanked you when you promised to tell him she was looking for him if you saw him. She left you to continue your trek up the many stairs of the keep to Helena’s rooms.

“(Y/N)!” Jaehera cried as she saw you. She rushed to her feet and stumbled her way over to you, arms wide as she waited for you to sweep her up into a hug. Her little arms wrapped around your neck and she pressed her forehead to the side of your face as you joined Helena in sitting with Jaeherys. The boy was slowly reading a page of writing to Helena. It was obvious that someone had spent hours with him drilling into his head exactly what the words said and that he likely couldn’t actually read the paper. Helena beamed with pride all the same. You sat beside her, shifting the girl in your arms to your lap so she was comfortable. When Jaeherys finished you all loudly applauded. He looked rather bashful and shyly came to greet you.

“Very good.” You said with a smile and he nodded. 

*************************

Alicent frowned at you. If you had not known her as well as you knew your own mother you might think she was disapproving of you. She shook her head and gently pulled at the soft fabric of the unfinished dress that was draped over you.

“No. It… This fabric is the last of its kind and (Y/N) is one of the most important people to Helena. You can do better than this.” Alicent demanded and turned to a nervous group of seamstresses. They looked at you as if you could temper Alicent’s wroth. They did not seem to realise that you, one of the few truly loved by the woman, did not have the power to dissuade her passion when it came to your care.

“By my… your gr…” The eldest woman stuttered. Aemond entered the room and stood by the door as Alicent scolded the woman. He stiffened and looked attentive when Alicent called his name.

“Look at this. It’s wrong is it not. I can see through it for Seven’s sake!” Alicent gestured to you and you gave Aemond a shy smile as he frowned.

“It is somewhat revealing.” Aemond said quietly. Alicent nodded and started making a list of demands. When Alicent finally dismissed you Aemond offered his arm and a means of a speedy retreat saying that Aegon needed to speak with her.

“I thought it looked nice.” Aemond said. The two of you strolled the long corridors with no destination in mind.

“Thank you. I think sometimes your mother worries. She did swear to mine to care for me as she would Helena. Which is not to say that I do not appreciate the mothering.” You added and Aemond chuckled.

“It can be… overwhelming at times.” Aemond said and smiled as you stopped near one of the open corridors that looked out at the sea and laughed.

“I am glad we understand each other.” You confessed and looked out of the large window. A comfortable silence fell over you both. Aemond found himself staring at you. He often did but now he couldn’t help but admire the way you look in the sun. The light catching in your hair and lips slightly parted as you appreciated the breeze that relived the stifling summer for a moment. His gaze fell to your chest as you sighed appreciatively at the feeling before he looked away and scolded himself. His mind wandered and he was helpless against the flash of images that he tried not to linger on. Lips parted by sweet sighs, his hands running along soft skin, tangling in your hair. The way you could sigh his name.

“Aemond?” Cole’s voice jolted Aemond from his thoughts. When he blinked and looked around he realised that you were gone and Cole was calling him from the end of the corridor.

“What is it?” Aemond asked. Cole sighed and shrugged a little.

“The whore and her brood have arrived. It seems your brother plans to negotiate with her. He’s thrown your grandfather out and taken his position as hand from him. Your mother wishes for you to join him. Your brother says he will only allow you in there with him.” Cole gestured for him to follow and Aemond did just that. He could hear his mother hysterically shouting with her father in a room nearby. 

When he entered the room it was deathly quiet. Aemond was surprised that his uncle wasn’t at the table, instead, Rhaenys sat beside his half-sister. 

**********

“Mother…” Helena said slowly. She spoke as if she expected Alicent to descend into an uproar at any moment. Alicent was brushing poor Jaehaera’s hair and had become so unfocused that the poor girl began to look like a cat being pet too hard. Helena glanced at you as if she was unsure what to say but recognised that someone should rescue the child who, though happy to be fussed over, did look rather desperate to escape. “Mother I do not think you should worry so…”

“How can I not worry!” Alicent's voice cracked against the silence and made everyone in the room jump. Alicent sighed and put the brush down, allowing her granddaughter to flee to her mother’s arms.

“I do not think Rhaenyra will be as ruthless as you think she might be. Could someone so cruel make a boy like Jace? He’s very kind.” Helena said, trying to soothe her mother who sighed and leaned forward in her seat, cupping her head in her hands. It had been late morning when Aemond had been summoned to Aegon. It was now late in the evening.

“I… do not know what to think about anything.” Alicent muttered with reluctance as if it pained her to admit it. 

“I can read.” Jaeherys said in a tone that made it clear he thought he might be helpful and smiled. Helena thanked him for the offer but asked him to take his sister with the maids to get ready for bed instead. The boy took his sister's hand and led the way across the room to a door that led to the children’s bedroom.

“Aemond will not let Aegon get out of hand.” Helena said with certainty. After that, no one said anything else. Beyond the children coming and requesting good night wishes as an attempt to stay up later. After they were gone there was nothing else to do but wait. 

You must have fallen asleep at some point. You were still on the long bench seat you’d been sitting on with Helena but she was gone. The fabric she’d been embroidering was neatly folded and placed under your head with a pillow and you recognised the blanket that had been tossed over you as one of Alicent’s that she liked to use when she came to sit with Helena in the evening. Sitting up and looking around the room you spotted Helena and Alicent in one corner around a table while Otto and Aemond spoke rather frantically. When you sat up Alicent glanced your way and reached out to Aemond. He glanced at you, hesitated then nodded and walked over.

“Is everything alright?” You asked and Aemond let out a slow sigh as he reached out to help you to your feet. In your still sleepy state, you leaned heavily on Aemond who accepted your weight and helped you to the door.

“Mother does not want you to worry. She has promised to come to you in the morning.” He muttered as he seemed to decide it would be quicker to simply carry you. Ordinarily, you would have objected but you were so tired and everyone was so frantic you decided to simply sink into Aemond as he hurried to your rooms. Your eyes fell shut with the sway of Aemond’s body. There was a slight breeze but he sheltered you from it. You became aware of him settling you down in your bed but found your eyes too heavy to open. The blankets were pulled around you and then a small sweet kiss was placed on your forehead. You weren’t sure if you had imagined it or not, it was fleeting. A momentary brush across your forehead.

*********************

There was an uneasiness to the morning when you woke. It was so potent that you could feel it in the air. Deciding to wait a moment longer before getting up you rolled over, stuffing one hand under the pillow and relaxing again. The room was bright with morning sunlight but you were determined to make the most of the cooler hours knowing that it would be horrifyingly hot later in the day. 

A shuffling in the room made you snap your eyes open. You had a maid of your own. A young woman who had worked for your family but she always knocked and it was the same way each time. So much so that anyone who resided in the Keep knew it was her.

Sitting up you spotted Aemond. He was sitting up in a chair by the door, leaning against the wall. He looked as if he were sleeping but his hand still clutched the sword leaning against his leg as tightly as you would expect of a man ready to leap into action. His clothes were different from the ones he had been wearing when he helped you to your rooms. Even asleep he looked tired. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

The familiar knock sounded before your maid entered the room and greeted you quietly. “Has he been here all morning?” You asked her and she nodded as she hurried to pick out a dress for you.

“He came back in the night. He woke me and instructed me to pack in case you needed to flee. Something is going on.” She explained quickly. You nodded slowly and frowned as you followed her behind the small room divider across the room. She helped you change your clothes and fixed your hair so it would be neat and out of your face. When you rounded the room divider you found Aemond had woken and was standing awkwardly looking at the floor.

“I… did not mean to fall asleep.” He confessed. You smiled and assured him that it was fine.

“Will you tell me what has happened?” You asked and Aemond frowned. He sheathed his sword before stepping closer to you.

“I… Aegon has made some decisions that have worried my mother and grandfather. Mother wanted me to make sure you were safe.” Aemond said reluctantly. It was clear that was all he was going to reveal so you nodded quietly and followed him out of your rooms. You had expected him to lead you to Helena’s rooms. You usually had breakfast with her and the children before going on a trek across the keep to Alicent’s rooms to spend the morning with her. But today there was no excited sound from the children. The torches down some halls had not been extinguished from the night before yet. 

Instead, Aemond led the way to the hall where meals with guests were normally held. He hesitated and looked at the guards near the door. You didn’t recognise them though you only really knew the guards that protected you and Helena and a few that protected Alicent. He opened the door, allowing you in before him. 

To your surprise the hall was full. The long table had been laid up. On one side Aegon sat with Alicent and Helena. There was an empty chair, a comfortable one that was usually left for Otto. Another empty chair sat beside one of the twins. Helena turned in her seat and gave you a pleading look and a nod to the chair, silently asking you to take up vigil on the other side of her children. Aemond went to the other chair not bothering to ask where Otto was. When you were sitting you were able to observe the opposite side of the table. You recognised Rhaenys who was opposite Aemond. Opposite Alicent sat a familiar woman who shot her several sly glances when you thought she wasn’t looking and realised that it was Rhaenyra. You hadn’t seen her since Laena Velaryon’s funeral. Looking across the table you tried to recall the names of all her children. The girls, one sitting beside an older boy and the other with the younger boy. Him you remembered, Lucaerys. Aemond had returned to the keep convinced that he had killed the boy. Only to find days later that he had washed up on a beach. There was a rumour that a fisherman's family had found him and taken him in until someone recognised him and word reached Rhaenyra. The girl with him would be Rhaena. The other two Jace and Baela.

The breakfast was the most awkward dinner you had ever eaten in your life and you once attended a dinner during which Aegon had been so drunk he’d fallen from his chair and kicked a plate full of food at a guest as he tumbled to the floor. There was either a heavy silence or a question put out into the room that was really intended as a verbal stab. 

“Daemon could not join us?” Alicent asked. Rhaenyra’s face stiffened and she cleared her throat. 

“No.” She answered coldly. The rest of the breakfast followed much of the same. Despite the awkwardness, Jace nodded at you from over the table.

“Forgive me. You looked strikingly similar to a lord Terren Rane. His daughter looks just like you.” Jace said politely. You smiled as you gulped down your mouthful and found everyone staring at you or their plates.

“He is a cousin of my mothers. My parents are both kin to lords of the Reach.” You answered and Jace nodded. He glanced at Baela who gave you a kind smile.

“I met him not too long ago. He is a good man. I am sure your parents are the same.” Jace said and you found yourself giving him a flattered smile.

“Thank you Prince Jacaerys.” You muttered and quickly reached for your drink. He glanced at Baela again who gave him a more amused smile this time. Down at the other end of the table, there was a loud clanging and a thump as if someone had slammed their hand down on the table. Alicent could be heard hissing a whisper at someone, you assumed Aemond. The rest of the meal remained awkward with Aegon making a few attempts to chat with Rhaenyra. Once the children began to fuss Helena requested to take them to their room. The two of you hurried them out after a short nod from Rhaenyra.

“That was… interesting.” You said as Helena picked up Jaehera and you took Jaeharys’ hand when he refused to be carried. Helena nodded thoughtfully and led the way to the children’s room. As soon as you reached it the children hurried off to play with the carefully carved wooden toys. Helena sat down on the bench seat near the fire with a heavy sigh and leaned back in the seat. You slowly joined her and reached for her hand.

“Aemond has not told me what has happened. Beyond Aegon making a choice that had upset people…” You pressed and Helena fiddled with the rings on your fingers. She stared at the one that matched the one she wore before speaking in her careful way.

“Aegon. Feels a great amount of guilt. For what has happened between him and Rhaenyra. He sent a letter hoping for peace. Grandfather was furious but he… I think Aegon was right to do it. Rhaenyra found out about a plan… to kill one of us. It was planned before Lucaerys was found. Her people were able to interfere and Rhaenyra wrote back to Aegon to warn him.” Helena explained. You leaned in and let her lean her head against you. You were one of the few people that Helena allowed to embrace her something you were rather proud of. 

“Is that why she came here?” You asked with a rapt focus. Helena sighed and shook her head.

“Aegon wishes to negotiate the issues with the throne that is between them. He told her this before anyone could stop him and Grandfather was furious.” Helena said and then suddenly stopped speaking.

“Where… is Otto?” You asked. Helena stayed silent and sat up. You waited for her to find the words but her eyes simply filled with tears and she shook her head. She had a habit of seeming to leave her own body until she felt better. You knew not to push any harder and fetch the pile of embroidery Helena had been working on.

The next few days were uncomfortable at best. Otto had vanished and Alicent tended to check in on you and Helena several times a day, never explaining anything but fretting over you and then leaving. You hadn’t seen Aemond since the awkward breakfast and Aegon seemed to always be in the council room with his half-sister. What made everyone all the more nervous was the lack of explanation for Daemon and Caraxes’ absence. 

There was, however, one joy that you had discovered. Jace and Baela. They were kind and always eager to greet you. You would walk arm in arm with them as you strolled the corridors, which you did often when your rooms became too stifling or Helena had ‘a fit of upset’, as Alicent would call it, and was sent away from her rooms.

Jace made a quick study of what you liked and your routine and Baela filled you in on all she knew from outside the Red Keep. The pair insisted that when they were crowned as Rhaenyra’s heirs you should visit them.

“Is… is Aegon not…” You had stuttered out. Jace smiled warmly as turned, arm still linked with yours while Baela held your hand as you and Helena would.

“That is what he is talking to my mother about. Arrangements.” Jace said seriously but his eager smile never faltered so you found yourself smiling a little too.

“Otto won't be happy.” You said and Baela scoffed, swinging your hands a little as the group began its slow pace again.

“He has been imprisoned so I don’t think he’ll have a say.” Baela frowned at you when you let out a long huff.

“Is that where he has been?” You asked.

“Do they not tell you these things?” Jace asked and you shrugged.

“Aemond does.. usually, but I do not know where he is at the moment. Alicent picks what she tells me, she doesn’t like to scare me but usually Helena finds out anyway and tells me if Aemond doesn’t.” You explained nervously. Jace nodded and gestured to a seat towards a shaded part of the corridor. The three of you settled down and he began to fill you in on what had happened.

 Baela began explaining what her grandmother had told her. As it transpired Aegon had a falling out with Otto and shortly after a threat against his children had been discovered. Rhaenyra wrote the same evening saying the same thing. Despite evidence and Rhaenys’ insistence that it was Daemon that had made the arrangements no one could entirely prove it and Ageon slowly convinced himself Otto was to blame. After she finished she let Jace finish. Aegon had summoned his half sister and insisted on a negotiation. He wanted the lives of his siblings, mother, his children, himself and Helena’s friend. At this point Jace had paused and pointed out that Aegon had meant you. You found yourself a little flattered that your life might be valuable enough to beg for during a negotiation between two royals. He went on; explaining that Aemond had been sent to Dragonstone he and Vhagar were to help Corlys handle anyone who might rebel against Rhaenyra by sea and earn Rhaenyra’s forgiveness for almost killing her son and taking the life of Luke’s poor dragon.

“Does that mean the fisherman story is true?” You interrupted and looked at Jace curiously who smiled and nodded. “Oh! I must tell Helena, we were so happy when we heard Luke was found. The story was so odd no one here in the Keep was sure if it was true or not.”

Jace seemed pleased that you and Helena had worried for Luke but said nothing more about that and continued to explain. Aegon would stay at King’s Landing until Rhaenyra could trust him and Helena could come and go between the Red Keep and Dragonstone as she wished. 

“What about me… what about Lord Hightower? He was so kind to me. Is there not anything to be done?” You asked and Jace looked away. Baela rolled her eyes as if she thought Jace’s chivalrous inability to give bad news was ridiculous and answered instead.

“Rhaenyra gives little mind to where you go and what you do if you are going to support Aegon’s negotiation. As for Otto… She believes he is the reason her siblings turned on her, and that her childhood friend turned on her. There is little anyone can do to mend that.” Baela explained. The three of you talked well into the afternoon. There had been so much that you hadn’t been told. 

Finding yourself overwhelmed, you excused yourself. Having intended to go to Helena instead, you found yourself walking to your rooms as your mind whirled. Nothing felt safe now. Your stomach twisted and turned anxiously as you such in a shaky breath and let out a heavy huff of air that alleviated the pain of your anxiety for a moment before it rushed back in its horrid fluttering way. Making your way to your bed and lying down you thought over everything they had said. Perhaps you should take your leave and go back home. Though you had been at Helena’s side for so many years that the King’s Landing was home. Eventually, the whirring of your mind exhausted you and along with the heat dragged you into an uneasy sleep. At one point you were conscious of Helena calling for you and your bed jostling.

When you woke you found a Small foot on your pillow next to you. Sitting up a little you realised that Helena was asleep on one side of your bed, clutching your hand, while cradling Jaehaera against her chest while Jaehaerys slept sprawled out and his feet on your pillow beside your head. You stared up at the ceiling listening to the early morning noises. Scurrying of servants, the sound of birds and the city far below the keep. Jaehaerys woke up just enough to crawl around and tuck himself under your hand that was clutched in Helena’s and wrap his little arms around both of yours. He was back asleep before you could think to wish him a good morning. It was beginning to get warm when Alicent came to find you all. There was a moment of relief when she spotted everyone piled up and for a moment she looked as if she might join you.

“Helena was worried when she could not find you yesterday.” Alicent said quietly as she leaned on the side of your bed, reaching over to stroke her grandchildren’s heads.

“I had much to think about.” You said quietly. Alicent nodded and blinked several times as if she was trying to hold back tears.

“We all do.” She said quietly. With your free hand, you reached for Alicent’s. She squeezed your hand and sucked in a shaky breath before smiling at you and standing. “We need to prepare. Helena wishes to stay at Dragonstone while everything is settled here. I can arrange for you to return to your family.” Alicent smiled. Despite the warmth of it, the smile didn’t reach her eyes and made her look rather hopeful and empty.

“Can Helena not come with me? To my family's keep. It does seem only fair. I have spent so many years here.” You offered hopefully. Alicent let out an odd laugh as she untangled Jaehaerys from you and Helena and handed him off to a maid who stood by the door. It was cold and sharp, unlike the warm sounds of the morning. 

“If I had my way I would allow it.” She said somewhat bitterly. You looked at Helena. She was always rather ethereally peaceful. Gentle in an unnerving way. Looking at her now, she looked worn and tired. Guilt rolled heavily in your belly as you considered going home and flinging yourself into the arms of your mother. Helena would never think to leave you behind. From what Jace and Baela had said even Aegon had included you in his negotiations. You let yourself think of your family for a moment before letting out a shaky sigh.

“Then I will go to Dragonstone. If it is not inconvenient.” You said firmly. Grief shrouded you as you spoke the words but when you held Alicent’s gaze you knew you had made the right choice. The dowager queen looked as if a great weight had lifted from her shoulders.

“I will not be able to go with her. I must stay with Aegon. I am grateful.” Alicent said hurriedly. She stumbled in the hem of her dress as she rounded the bed and crushed you into a hug.

“Aemond will be there too. I shall take care of her. My uncle has a keep in the Crownlands not too far from Dragonstone by ship. I will have my father write to him, he should have no issue visiting.” You offered as comfort. Alicent gave a short smile before turning to Helena who frowned with an objection to being roused earlier than she was used to.

******************

The journey to Dragonstone had been uncomfortable. After being packed up into a large ship and seen off by Aegon and Alicent a storm had struck the sky open. The short boat trip had been a sickly one with all aboard becoming queasy because of the violent rocking of the boat. Once you had arrived at Dragonstone there was no one to greet you.

“Where do we go?” You asked and Helena shook her head as she lifted her cloak to shelter the children under it from the rain. There was a sound overhead and looking up you could just make out the shape of Vhagar and a smaller dragon among the storm clouds.

“Aemond!” Helena said rather hopefully. Turning to the servants standing next to the boat you called out.

“Stay with the ship. We shall go to Aemond and have someone come to fetch our belongings.” You gestured to the docked boat. The group nodded and fled into the ship. Picking up a child each, you and Helena hurried as fast as you could across the beach towards the dark shape of Vhagar circling in the air. The great beast landed and the heavy rain hid her from sight. The rain came down so heavily that it was quite a shock when Rhaena hurried into view from the murky darkness.

“Princess? Lady (Y/N)?” She said in surprise and hurried to guide you both towards a large cavern. Once inside you lowered your soaked hood and lowered Jaehaera to the floor, holding her hand tightly as you were led into the keep. Guards stood ominously along the corridors. Rhaena continued until you were quite lost and stopped at a door.

“These will be your rooms.” She said to you and opened the door. When you didn’t enter she smiled and tried to look encouraging as she added. “Baela asked our grandmother to send some furniture a lord from the Reach once gifted her. She thought it might comfort you… that is where you are from?”

“Yes. It is. Though I have been Helena’s companion for some time now. Most of my life in fact… Thank you all the same.” You said when Rhaena looked a little disappointed. “I have been away so long that it shall be nice to have a reminder.” At this, Rhaena beamed happily before continuing to show Helena where she and the children would stay. 

“We are sorry that you had to walk up the beach by yourselves. The storm hit rather a lot harder than we thought it would. We… weren’t prepared.” Rhaena explained.

“We cannot fault you for the weather.” Helena said in her gently wise way and smiled at Rhaena who nodded and looked pleased.

“I shall leave you to settle and fetch someone to collect your things from the ship.” She said by way of dismissing herself and hurried off and shut the door to Helena’s rooms behind her.

“Well. Here we are.” Helena said as she sat in a comfortable-looking chair that was carved to look like a furious dragon.

Settling the children was far easier than you had thought. Jaehaera was happy to settle down in front of the fire and play with her toys while Jaehaerys was content going about the room and greeting each carved dragon that he could see. Everything had changed. You longed to go back to the keep or to go home to your parents but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Helena. 

“Perhaps Aemond will be able to see us.” You offered with a smile. Helena looked at the door thoughtfully and then nodded as if for now that hope would be enough to keep her satisfied.

[formulawolff]

iii. objects in the mirror - t.w. + m.v.

pairing -> reserve fem driver!reader x toto wolff x max verstappen

word count -> 2.8k

warnings -> morally gray individuals, slow burn, sexual content (intercourse), allusions to sexual content, cursing, lots of power imbalance, questionable boss x employee dynamics, light toxicity, slight controlling tendencies from toto, miscommunication trope (only for this chapter!!!)

a/n -> she’s baaaaaacckkkk! i hope y’all enjoy the messiness that is about to unfold! i missed you all so much! <3 p.s., give objects in the mirror by mac miller a listen while reading this chapter!

prev. | next.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

he stands at the barriers, fingers curling around the cool surface. his jaw clenches as the press begins to cluster around, their cameras poised, eager to capture every word. every movement.

the blinking red lights are beady and unforgiving as the reporters raise their phones and mics, nearly shoving them toward his face.

"max, what did you make of qualifying?"

"max! over here! how does it feel to be outperformed by a reserve driver?"

"max! max! is she a threat to your pursuit of a perfect start?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the dutch driver shakes his head, suppressing the chuckle rumbling in the base of his throat.

what kinds of questions were these? how was he supposed to answer of them? who hired these people to represent the press?

yet, he knew he had to answer their burning questions. it was a requirement set forth by the fia. a term and condition in his contract. a duty of the job.

"well," max coughs, shifting slightly as all eyes fall on him, "i-i didn't perform to the best of my abilities. the car is good, the strategy was good, and we had a great game plan. i was the one who didn't do my part. i could have done some things differently, especially on some of the turns.

but this is only the first race. we have so much ahead this season, it's difficult to really tell how it will all play out. we will just have to take it weekend by weekend. session by session. race by race. that's about all i can really say right now. did that answer your questions?"

"all but one," a journalist waves her hand, "you avoided the question regarding the reserve driver. how did it feel to be outperformed by someone who has not competed in a single formula one race? she was a second and a half faster than you on the track. is that sort of concerning to you or red bull? or do you believe that it was the car that won her pole?"

the dutch driver puckers his lips, tongue gliding along his teeth a pause settles over the crowd, consuming them with silence. his gaze scans over the reporters, taking in how they glance uneasily at one another, cautious not to speak any further.

he was well aware of why they were nervous.

well, rather who they were wary of.

mad max.

he cocks his head, lips curling into a smug smirk, "you all witness one subpar performance and think that--"

however, something moves in his peripheral, the words trailing off as he's pulled away.

not something, but someone.

her.

absolutely and uttered swarmed by other outlets, their journalists hounding her like some damn dogs. the lights from the cameras are almost blinding, his eyes squinting from the harsh light. on her face, sweat lingers, illuminating her skin with a soft, dewy glow. she's still in her suit but it's half unzipped, the material bunching perfectly around her hips, almost hugging them.

there's an itching sensation in his fingers and toes, almost like his body was urging him to move. almost as if he needed to be in close proximity to her.

to orbit around her like a planet, just so that he could be in her space.

he can't make out what they're asking, but it's clear that she's visibly uncomfortable. her eyes dart back and forth, unable to maintain steady eye contact with a single reporter. she's swaying slightly, a desperate attempt to self-soothe as all of their voices blend together.

fuck, did she execute a brilliant drive. the pace she held on the car was incredible, every turn and chicane flawless. somehow, she was able to push that w15 to its full potential.

she was like lighting. if you blinked, you would have missed her soaring down that track.

it was almost like she was destined for formula one. like she belonged in one of those twenty seats from the very beginning. if only he could have talked some sense into christian.

if only.

the image of her on top of the car, pumping her fists in the air would forever be engrained in his memory. the way strands of hair clung to her forehead as she pulled that balaclava off. the way her grin was brighter than the lights of the grandstands. the way stars shone in her eyes, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as the team swept her up into their arms.

god, he had never seen her so happy. so full of life. so ethereal in that moment, radiating nothing but pure, holy light.

a goddess walking the earth, brightening the world with her angelic presence.

not any world, but his world.

there was that feeling creeping in. that stinging sensation.

the one feeling that always lingered, no matter how desperately he pushed it away.

that one fucking feeling.

"max," a voice cuts in, "are you going to answer?"

"u-uhm," the dutch driver blinks, a hand instinctively cupping the base of his neck, "i have no comment, really. we will just have to see how tomorrow unfolds. as far as the rest of the season, we will just have to wait and see. that's all i have to say."

forming a tight-lipped smile, max gives a final nod, swiveling on his heel. the journalists call out his name, in vain attempts to flag him down. to capture one last statement. to get one more clip.

they wouldn't though.

not when his mind was clouded.

clouded by her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"i'm so proud of you."

the words are quiet, laced with a softness you couldn't quite put your finger on.

your chin tilts upward, a giggle bubbling up in your throat, "oh yeah?"

he nods fervently, fingers drifting to your face. they roam along your cheekbone, tracing down your jawline, "baby, i'm so proud of you. so fucking proud."

"i didn't really know what was happening until i heard them over the radio," heat billows into your cheeks as max's mouth curves into a quaint smile, a glimmer in his gaze as you continue, "i was just in the zone, you know?"

"mhmmm," he hums, carefully brushing a loose strand from your forehead, "i know exactly what you're talking about."

a hazy bliss hangs in the air, your bodies intertwined, shrouded by the warmth of the comforter. heated skin presses against yours, your head nuzzled against his collarbone. an arm hangs lazily around your waist, thumb massaging along your hip.

if only you could just stay here. cozied up with max verstappen, high off the thrill of racing and oxytocin. basking in his affection and admiration, kisses peppering your forehead and temple.

"are you ready to get your ass kicked tomorrow?"

max arches a brow, and you catch a flicker in his eye.

the flicker of fire.

"you sure about that one, love?"

"i think it'll be a good race," propping yourself up with your elbow, you lean in, the tip of your nose brushing against his, "you know what i think we should do?"

you inch closer, a rosy pink hue tinging his cheeks, "what's that?"

"i think that whoever loses tomorrow, has to give the winner head."

"oh?" the corners of max's mouth curve, forming a wide smile, "you know what i think? i think that's simply lovely."

shaking your head, you roll your eyes as max bursts into a fit of laughter, his chest vibrating against yours. you huff, rolling away from him. the laugh is hearty, deep from his diaphragm. it's a rare laugh, one reserved for those closest to him.

a sound only heard by the people he loved.

"come here," his breath fans against your ear as his forearm tightens around your waist, "don't hide from me."

the words are breathy, almost needy.

as if he couldn't bear a second longer without you in his arms.

you shift, puckering your lips as a shiver runs down your spine, "where did this max come from?"

"he's always been here," a hand glides along your neck, grasping it oh so slightly as his mouth ghosts over yours, "d-do you have any idea of what you do to me?"

your lashes flutter as your heart skips a beat, "i-i don't know if i--"

a shrill noise floods the space, earning a flinch from you as max exhales, turning over. he reaches for the nightstand, squinting from the brightness of his phone. your lower lip juts out, forming a pout as his focus on you completely crumbles.

as he types away, there's this gnawing in your gut, the temperature of the room dropping a few degrees. when it came to you, max provided nothing but his complete and utter attention. he never answered his phone unless it was a call. and usually, it wasn't anyone other than his mom, gianpiero, checo, or christian calling.

he always affirmed to you that texts, emails, and other notifications could wait.

so, what suddenly captivated his attention?

or rather, who?

peering over his shoulder, your eyes narrow.

he's on instagram, scrolling through a conversation thread in his direct messages. at first, it looks like a fan, which was not uncommon. max received all sorts of messages from fans, from all ages and genders. more than half of the time, they were women, but it didn't bother you.

if you were his fan, you would dm him too.

however, as you make out the username, your heart sinks.

it was none other than kelly piquet. daughter of nelson piquet. a name well-known in the world of motorsports.

a name that left an awful, putrid taste in your mouth.

you did a great job this weekend! i can't wait to watch you race tomorrow! you're gonna win, i just know it. 😘

your lower lip trembles, your chest tightening as you notice more and more messages. photos too. anything from seflies to photos of her in workout sets or bikinis. tons and tons of emojis, ranging from hearts to kissy faces.

tears well up, the initial disbelief dissolving into fiery rage.

"w-when did you start talking to kelly piquet?"

your voice is so low max can't pick out the words. hitting the lock screen button, he rolls back, facing you. two hands cup your cheeks, eyes locking with yours.

"baby, i'm not talking to her."

"obviously you are!" a sob escapes your throat, the tears trickling down, "why are you fucking entertaining that? you were responding to her message! i saw it!"

"do you want to see my phone?" max pleads, "i'll let you look at my phone. you can go through everything--"

"i don't want to see any more," you jaw clenches, "just get the fuck out. please."

"don't make me go," his voice falters, "please, just let me explain."

carefully, you begin to sit up. wiping away your tears, you raise your arm, pointing at the door, "j-just go. i don't want to hear another word from you. just get the fuck out of here."

"baby, let me just fucking tell you what's going on--"

squeezing your eyes shut, your shoulders shake as the cries erupt, spilling out, "i-i think i have a g-good idea of w-what's--"

"i love you. do you hear me? i fucking love you. i would rather lose everything. my fucking career. my awards and accolades. everything that i own. i would lose it all if it meant i could have you."

"you d-don't," you spit out, the despair withering away to fury, "if you loved me, you wouldn't be fucking and entertaining other women. get out of my fucking room, max. get the fuck out. i don't want to hear from you or speak to you ever again. get out of my fucking life."

in that moment, you sense his defeat.

max couldn't argue with you any longer. if that's what you wanted, then he would obey. as much as his mind screamed at him to stay, to just hold and comfort you, he knew you were stubborn.

he couldn't blame you, not one bit.

after all, things did look pretty bad. you caught him responding to a woman who was consistently messaging him. and not just any woman.

a woman he had a brief fling with, several years before he met you.

a woman that you knew about, simply because max couldn't help but share the details. not because he wanted you to know, but because he was comfortable with you.

you knew things about him that no one else did. you knew what his favorite toy was when he was only a six year-old boy. you knew what song he listened to before every race, how he liked his tomato soup, and the darkness surrounding his upbringing.

you knew max verstappen in ways no one else did.

which, is why he loved you. he loved that he could be vulnerable with you. you were his safe haven. the sun to his moon. the woman who placed the stars in the sky.

the one person he was completely and utterly himself with.

and now, you were sitting here, dried tears sticking to your heated cheeks, ordering him to go. forcing him out of your life.

he wouldn't blame you for acting this way.

he knew your temper. he was well aware that it would only be a couple of hours before you were calling him, desperate to hear his voice because it was the only way you could fall asleep. you would beg for him to sing that one lullaby, in his native tongue. the one he wanted to sing for you every night until you dozed off in his arms.

yet, if you wanted him gone, then that's what he would do.

after all, max was patient.

he would wait.

even if it took months, he would wait until you were ready to forgive him.

shoving an arm through his coat, he crossed the room, finding the door. glancing over his shoulder, he looked at you one last time.

you were curled up in the bed, wrapped underneath the comforter. your sobs were muffled, but he could hear them. it felt almost as if there was a dagger, tearing his chest open and driving into his heart.

but he had to leave. it was what you wanted.

it's what you needed, as much as it pained him to leave you.

as max verstappen slipped out from the front door of your motorhome, a figure lingered in the shadows, their curiosity piquing as max shouts and curses about, his voice carrying across the night.

toto wolff, team principal of mercedes folds his arms across his chest, clicking his tongue.

"oh sweet girl, what did you get yourself into?"

cautiously, the team principal flicks his head back and forth, ensuring there max was out of sight. after all, it was approximately 1:06 a.m. surely he wouldn't be noticed.

see, it wasn't like toto intended to witness what he just did. he just happened to be taking an evening stroll. and well, part of his stroll just happened to be in front of your motorhome. it was simply part of the route that he took every race weekend.

sucking in a breath, the team principal made his way toward your door.

he knew he shouldn't. he knew the risks involved. he knew how messy this could get.

but toto wolff wanted to build a champion.

and that's what he would do.

no matter what it took.

licking his lips, the team principal raises his hand, gently rapping his knuckles against the door. it only takes about a minute before the door opens. at first, it's merely a crack, your head barely poking out.

there's an uneasy feeling that seeps into his chest as he notices the crimson hue tinging your eyes, the lids puffy from tears. your hair is a little messier than usual, a loose t-shirt hanging from your frame.

when you recognize who it is, you straighten a little, clearing your throat.

"u-uh, hi toto. you know it's late right?"

"i know," he nods, "but i was taking a stroll to clear my head and noticed someone around your motorhome. is everything okay?"

"oh?" your brow furrows, and he picks up the way you shrink slightly, "i didn't know that. i've been asleep."

"oh really?" toto cocks his head, sensing your demeanor shift as he catches you right where he wants you, right in the middle of your lie, "are you telling the truth?"

your sniff, feeling your palms clam up as he studies you, picking you apart, "i-i don't know what you're talking about."

the team principal takes a step forward, a hand darting out. it caresses your cheek, the pad of his thumb catching a tear as it falls.

"tell me, hase. are you having boy troubles?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @sweetjellyfishland @ts1m1kas @bxuzi @racecardilfs @bblouifford @justacornerofmybrain @irishmanwhore @sleutherclaw @marknolee @jeannealicette @allyisalright-blog @omgsuperstarg @okdokeygryssel63 @noooway555

[scuderiasundays]

free ride

summary: friction, spontaneous gifts, and revelations on a ride home + a little insta au at the end 💌

words: 673

a/n: a short blurb! haven't written in months but may post sporadically. tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz just because. any and all feedback much appreciated as always! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

“You can be so clingy sometimes.” Lando let out a sigh, one that was tinged with deep disapproval. He continued to hastily shove his belongings into the duffel bag you had gifted him mere weeks ago. Standing in the hallway, your mind couldn’t help but play back the memory of a happier time.

-

“You’ve gotten me a gift and it’s not even my birthday. If this is a taste of what a lifetime with you looks like, sign me up!”

Lando twirled with the sleek leather bag over his shoulder. Qatar Airways had lost his prized duffel (another “perk” of being a frequent flyer). While you were well aware he could easily afford a replacement, the sheer thought of giving back to him put a smile on your face.

“Check the luggage tag,” you said. He turned it over in his hand, revealing the number one engraved in gold.

“You do realize my driver number is four, right? Or was this meant for Max?“ He said, his lips turning upwards in a cheeky grin.

“Shut up, I just wanted you to show you how much I believe in you—my future world champion.”

“How did I get so lucky?” He pulled you close, cupping your face with both hands before planting a kiss on your forehead.

-

You shook yourself out of it as the front door slammed, realizing your vision start to blur. With 24 races on the calendar and work keeping you in London, it wasn't a total shock that things had gone south. Yet as you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn't decipher if it was Lando speaking or just the exhaustion from a 13-hour flight getting to him. All you did was ask if he wanted to join you for dinner with friends tonight, and he’d deemed you “clingy.”

-

You heard your phone buzz on the kitchen island as you grabbed the keys. It was Ashley calling. He’d call you on occasion when Lando asked him to but it surprised you nonetheless. He sounded worried as he explained that Lando wasn't feeling well at the MTC and needed someone to pick him up. Feeling a sense of urgency, you quickly shifted gears, realizing that you’d have to take a rain check on tonight’s plans.

-

Lando looked pale and small as he climbed into the passenger’s side of your car. You tried to help him in but he swatted your hands away, a lingering reminder of the tension between you. You turned up the radio to drown out the deafening silence when you suddenly heard his voice.

“I’m sorry about this morning.” You could just make out his eyes shifting from the window to you in your peripheral vision. To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t expected an apology out of him so soon.

“I never meant to tell you this but the thought of you walking away from me and us…Well, just thinking about it makes me queasy. I was on the sim and I realized I’d hurt you and my mind started spiraling and-”

You pulled the car over to the side of the road as his breathing shallowed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine.” You wiped the tears from his face and placed your hand on his thigh. It took a few minutes but you saw the color gradually return to his face.

“Anywhere you want to go? It’s rare you let me drive so I’m taking it all in.”

“Up to you. I’m just here for the free ride.” He giggled.

“Free, huh? Well, this girl charges in secrets. So, where’s Carlos headed next season?”

Lando ran his hands through his curls, a nervous tick of his.

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes twinkling in the evening glow. As much as you despised the complications that came with all the time zones and miles apart, there was no doubt you'd find your way back to each other at the end of each day.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 41,414 others

yourusername: i cry a lot but i am so productive! it's! an! art!

fan1: love that she's a swiftie but is lando the reason behind all her crying 🤨

fan2: if so, it's on sight!!!

landonorris: begging you to clear my name and confirm i am, in fact, the world's best boyfriend

yourusername: i love you but what did we say about a growth mindset?

carlossainz55: humble him, reina 🤭

yourbestfriend: love the fact that pimm fits perfectly in your 🚲 basket

pietra.pilao: soooo much love for you ❤️

[aayakashii]

Gaahh I'm so sorry this took so long despite it being only 2k words 😣 I am not satisfied with it at all, but I need to publish otherwise I'll never do it 💀 I do hope it's not that bad though.

Anyway, here it is @rottenzombrainz 🫶 I am sorry it took me so long!

Warning: Yandere!Jiro has absolutely no sense of personal space and boundaries

rubies and black holes

You were having pleasant dreams for a change. It wasn't anything specific – just a mess of bright colors and a fluttering feeling of comfort that made your sleep peaceful for once.

It was the kind of sweet nonsense that lulled you into a deeper slumber; not the unnerving one that made your sleep shallow and restless.

The pastel hues floated languidly like jellyfish underwater, and a soothing white noise, like the hum of an old air conditioner, vibrated inside your ears.

Everything was tranquil and you felt like nothing could ever rip that dream apart, at least not that night.

And that was true, until a bleeding black pit forcefully yanked you out of your comfort, as it suddenly made itself known in the midst of all those colors.

You couldn't ignore it, once you were aware of its presence. It was always in your line of sight, no matter how much you tried to evade it. Always lingering, haunting your peripheral vision, as if it followed your every move; yet, when you turned to face it, it just pierced you with its hypnotizing gaze – unmoving.

And what a mistake it was to face it.

You could feel your body react to it, as though you were approaching the tethering line that kept you from danger: your heart picked up its pace and your breathing got shallower.

The hole looked endless and void of life. You couldn't tell if it was made of darkness or if darkness was made of it; it was just an open gash in what was once a tranquil place – a gaping wound you could not tend to. And despite its lifelessness, you felt like it watched you. It tracked your every movement, your breathing, your heart, your eyes.

“You stare at the abyss and the abyss stares back at you”, you remembered someone had said once, only it felt quite literal in your case.

You couldn't escape its stare. It pinned you down, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn't run, nor stay and your brain finally refused to keep up with the eldritch-esque conflict stirring inside your mind.

With a jolt, you startled awake, breathless and with your heart thumping loud and fast. You were met by the wooden ceiling of your dorm and the cold breeze that blew from your open window.

You were safe. Your breath was shaky when you sighed loudly, hands rubbing your eyes and your face to ground yourself back into reality.

It was only after a few seconds, however, that you noticed a strange weight on your abdomen.

With eyes still closed, you went to place your hand on your stomach, wondering if a cat had made its way to your bedroom (it wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes you'd wake up with a cat curled right beside your feet or your head or on your back. For some reason, the worker cats loved you and a tiny part of you wondered if they just liked the smell of the anomaly in you taking over your blood).

You weren't expecting, however, to feel tousled hair locks on your fingertips.

You slowly looked down, finally acknowledging the pair of piercing red eyes that stared at you, unblinking, while you slept.

You gasped loudly, a scream stuck on your throat, instinctively pushing the man's head away from your body, though he barely budged – his huge frame was too heavy for you to move. Sleep still coated your senses and you could feel your brain working overdrive to process what you were seeing; who was that person who watched you so intently, so silently.

Once your mind finally recognized whatever your eyes saw, however, you sighed in relief, putting a hand over your poor racing heart.

"Jiro!" You half-yelled, exasperated, and he blinked slowly. He had laid down his head on your belly while he knelt beside your bed and you had no idea how long he had been staring at you as you slept. “What are you doing here?! I was sleeping!”

He slowly got up and sat on his heels, but kept his arms firmly draped around your midsection.

“I was watching you sleep.”

You licked your dry lips and scrunched your forehead in confusion.

“I… I can see that. Why?”

Jiro looked to the side, to where his hand touched your belly. You could feel the coldness of his translucent skin seeping through the fabric of your pajamas. The blue veins on his arms formed a map of its own.

“I don't know.” He said, after a few seconds of silence. His glowing red stare fixed upon your face once more, as if searching for something inside your mind.

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out of it. You didn't know how to answer.

“I just… had an impulse and followed through with it. I just had to see you.” He muttered, still unblinking.

“You know this is like… very creepy, right?” He finally looked away, avoiding your reprimanding gaze. Deep down he knew he was wrong, but wouldn't admit. “Right?”

Jiro hummed, teeth pulling on the dead skin of his chapped lips. You had to keep yourself from scolding him even more, as small red gashes appeared on his mouth.

“Your breathing is very short and fast.” He began, voice even and monotone as it always was whenever he was talking to his patients. “You seem to be fatigued despite your sleep. These are some of the tell-tale signs of paradoxical breathing. You might be facing some degree of diaphragm dysfunction and we should investigate it.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he purposefully ignored your comment.

“No, Jiro. I'm like this because you scared the hell out of me.”

He met your eyes and, once again, like spellwork, you felt petrified under his gaze; a black hole that sucked you inside an universe of red.

“I can't understand.” he murmured.

“What is it?” You asked, voice softening to match his tone.

His hand swiftly reached towards you as if he was going to grab your face, and you flinched at the sudden movement – your nerves were still frayed at its ends. Jiro dropped his hand back into the mattress before he could touch you.

“I don't understand why I can't get you out of my head. It's aggravating.” He wrinkled his nose almost imperceptibly in a subtle expression of discomfort. “You're constantly in my mind. Day and night. No matter what I do, I end up thinking of you. Wanting to see you. It's disrupting my activities.”

You blinked rapidly, wondering if Jiro had an inkling of the weight of his words – of what he seemed to be implying – or if he was truly clueless and acting blindly, led by his instincts. You didn't know which one seemed more dangerous.

“Jiro, I'm- I'm flattered but–”

“Maybe, subconsciously, I came here to understand.” He interrupted, as if deep in his thoughts. “To observe. To gather empirical evidence.”

He shuffled on his spot and laid his head on your torso. His mop of messy hair tickled your chin as he nuzzled into your chest, inhaling sharply.

“Jiro!” You tried to pry him away from your body to no avail.

He shuddered as he exhaled slowly, as if savoring your scent. He turned his head to look at you.

You couldn't help but swallow thickly and notice every little pore of his face from so up close. His long lashes, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped, pale lips and the little mole on his chin. You cursed yourself for thinking he still looked beautiful while you were pinned on your bed.

He suddenly chuckled, eyes glinting with mirth.

“You look so scared.” He muttered. His soft, velvety voice vibrated on your ribcage. “Do you think I'm gonna hurt you?”

You had to contain a whimper, clenching your jaw. You were pretty sure he meant no harm to you, but he sure looked plenty intimidating at that moment. It took a staggering amount of faith on him for you to steel yourself and not struggle to run.

“No… no. No, I don't think you'd hurt me.”

He nuzzled into your neck, inhaling once again, getting dangerously close to your face. He gave out a pleased hum.

“I feel like I could do this forever. I wonder why.”

Your breath hitched on your throat.

“You… you really don't know?”

He raised his head, lips brushing against your cheek, and blinked owlishly.

“Do you?”

“... No.”

Again, you weren't sure if you had lied or not. You weren't sure if his own way of loving was crooked, or if he was merely obsessed with the idea of you. Either option left you with a pit in your gut. You weren't sure you wanted an answer any time soon.

“I don't know yet either. Some things are still out of my grasp after my coma.” He shook his head. “But I feel like I can make a breakthrough at any moment.” His hands glided from your hands to your shoulders, and he squeezed the tightened muscles. You shuddered despite yourself.

“I can make a breakthrough… especially if I'm near you.” His hands steadily moved from your shoulder to your neck. Jiro's fingers rested on the fast thump of your carotid pulses. You felt your chest tighten with the knowledge that he could press down on them and have you at his mercy in mere seconds. You tried to focus on the way his lips moved, silently counting the heartbeats.

“120 bpm. That's very high.” He said seriously after a whole minute, shuffling closer.

“You do appear to need my careful vigilance as you seem awfully distressed.” Jiro was fully oblivious to the irony of his words. “Should I just give you a check up more than once per day? Though I do wonder how I could keep an eye on you whenever you went on missions.”

His face was uncomfortably close and his eyes were locked into your parted lips. You panted, anxiety coursing through your veins and making it hard to breathe.

His breath smelled like the sterile nothingness of unflavored toothpaste and his eyes still glinted with something you couldn't recognize – probably because you had never been under the throes of obsession as he was.

“Jiro you don't … you don't have to do this. You don't have to keep me under your watch.”

His eyes widened and he tilted his head, as if suddenly inspired by your words. As soon as the flicker of satisfaction lightened his eyes, you wanted to punch yourself.

“That's a great idea, actually; to properly keep you under my watch.”

You blanched.

“It'd be great for research on your curse as well.”

“No, you really don't–”

His hands ended up cupping your cheeks, squeezing your face a bit tighter than it was comfortable, successfully silencing you. You didn't know if it was on purpose or if he was just truly unaware of his strength.

“Thank you very much for your suggestion. It seems to be the correct one. I'll find a way to keep you by my side soon.”

You widened your eyes as he calmly decided on your own future with the finality of someone who knew they could pull it off.

What would that future entail, then? A prison at Mortkranken's underground lab, with only Jiro as your warden? How could you convince him of how nonsensical and inhumane his plan sounded? How would he justify your absence to the Academy? How could he ever think he was the owner of the little freedom you had in that campus?

Jiro laid down his head on his arms, on top of your stomach again, his weight keeping you from breathing properly as he kept his ruby-like eyes still fixed on you. You could only stare, wide-eyed and breath shallow.

“You can go back to sleep.” He announced, flatly, with no intentions of leaving your side, anchored onto your body like a flag claiming a territory.

You looked to the ceiling, trying to evade the sharpness of his red irises, heart still hammering inside your ribcage as you thought of his sudden decision.

It seemed there was no way you'd have another comfortable dream ever again.

[vmlnrzmp4]

a/n: suggestive

it's been ten minutes, give or take, your friend promised to be back soon. it might seem like she abandoned you but you know her. so you wait and wait.

a red cup of some drink in your hand. you're not even aware of what drink it is. back leaned against the wall as the party goes on. you helplessly watch. and you helplessly wait.

you don't get along that well with kaiser. but you have what he calls a privilege to call him by his first name.

so when he sees you, you're unaware of what to do. you look away—a typical reaction from a loser like yourself. from your peripheral vision, you see kaiser saying something to his mates before approaching you.

you look back at him, still occasionally avoiding eye contact. he hits you with the "hey," as he gets near. you parrot that as a response. "you? here?" he questions knowing how you prioritize your comfort zone so much. you'd never attend an event like this. he knows that. obviously he does.

the party music and your low voice only made him shake his head. he gets closer, leaning down to hear you properly. you tell him that your friend forced you and that you never wanted to be here.

there's a little silence—not really, with the party music blasting—but it's absolutely awkward.

so you add that you're waiting for her.

he simply hums, running his eyes up and down you before commenting on your outfit. criticizing and making fun it. that. was. it. you ramble.

you ramble and ramble.

"no, i did not put much effort, wearing this. and ive told you before that i was forced here. and this stupid—stupid red cup im holding which my friend—who will be here any moment now—told me to hold it incase any unwanted man approaches me and yet here you are—"

you are cut off by his chuckle.

"but i'm no stranger am i?"

from the corner of your eyes, you could see someone staring. you look around to see few girls and maybe kaiser's mates glancing your way, then talking among themselves.

you're not going to blame them you think they might be gossiping. you quickly get aware of the fact that what they might see from their point of view— kaiser pinning you to the wall.

kaiser reads your discomfort like you're an open book(of course he does.)

you get distracted for a moment. gaze falling onto the tattoo on the back of his hand. he has one on the side of his neck too.

does it join? is it connected?

you weren't sure. but you're back at feeling annoyed. your eyebrows furrow. you were so so very annoyed.

kaiser hits you with the "hey," again and you question with a low hum. he tests the waters, leaning in closer, he grabs your wrist, till your peripheral vision is not to be focused on.

now that he gets closer, your attention stays completely at him and him only. but at the same time, you're tired and growing a little subconscious with the irritation.

his grip on your wrist lightens and you free it from his grasp only to tug at his sleeve.

"im not going anywhere," he reassures. he gets more touchy-touchy. just gestures to ease your discomfort. but there's only much they can do till you're distracted again.

you don't realise the music getting louder when here, kaiser has leaned against your ear again, "push me, or hit me if you don't like this, yeah?" he tests the water again. mouth trailing over your neck.

you exhale.

his lips felt soft.

so so soft.

he pulls himself off. your eyes were closed. and now little hazy as you stare at his. "c'mon, my car's outside—" he cuts himself, realising it's better to carry you there than you make you walk. so he does. carrying you out in his arms like a princess.

the time was thankfully on your side, it didnt feel long till you got to his car. in his car, on his lap. he made you straddle him. arms rubbing on your back soothingly. the dim yellow light felt calming. it's quieter. it's nicer.

"you ok?" he asks.

"yes," you trace the tattoo on his neck. "pretty."

"it's swirling thorns trailing to the back of my hand that joins this crown, ya see?"

you trace blue flower, making him smile as he leans in, kissing your jaw and going lower. hovering his mouth on your neck and collarbones so chastely.

he parts to capture your lips with his just as delicately. the kiss so pillowly and feathery, never wanting to stop. but the time wasn't with you again as your phone rings loudly.

still, you were proud of yourself for believing that your friend wouldn't ditch you.

—

ass title ik

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; tensions continue to build as you face unexpected feelings, leaving you uncertain of your place and searching for clarity in a world that’s shifting without you.

⚠️ warnings; none

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

Black Mous was a warm haven in the heart of the city, its entrance tucked between old brick buildings. The wooden beams overhead added a rustic feel, while the soft lighting—magically flickering candles suspended in midair—cast a golden glow. Laswell had designed the space to feel cosy for humans and magical-folk alike, with worn leather booths and a crackling fireplace in one corner.

It was quiet tonight, the soft hum of conversation filling the air, accompanied by the occasional clinking of glasses. You walked in, eyes searching for Laswell’s familiar silhouette at the far end of the room. The moment you spotted her, she was sitting at her usual corner table, nursing a drink and shuffling through some paperwork.

“Mind if I join?” you asked, sliding into the chair across from her without waiting for a reply.

She looked up, her steely eyes softening slightly, a sign she’d grown used to your unannounced arrivals. “You’re always welcome. What’s on your mind?”

You shrugged, trying to mask your unease. “Just wanted to catch up.”

Her expression flickered, but before she could respond, the air shifted again—the same tingle you’d felt in the supermarket. You turned your head, eyes landing on a figure standing near the bar, a girl with wide eyes and honey brown hair.

Leah.

The newcomer Laswell had taken in, the magicless girl who somehow managed to get the attention of everyone around her.

You frowned, watching her quietly from the corner of your eye. Something wasn’t right. She looked too….kind, too innocent for the tension she brought into the room.

Laswell followed your gaze and sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I was wondering when you’d ask about her.”

“So, that’s the girl?”

“That’s Leah,” Laswell confirmed, her tone neutral.

You said nothing, not really wanting to leave your thoughts out into the open just yet.

She raised an eyebrow at your silence, but before she could prod, you spotted in your peripheral a very familiar figure walk in. Your eyes snapped back towards the bar, where Leah stood nervously glancing between her drink and the figure now hovering over her.

Price.

He towered over her, his rough exterior softened in a way you had never seen before. His broad hand reached out, resting almost too gently on Leah’s shoulder, his thumb brushing her skin as he leaned in to say something quietly in her ear.

A cold wave of nausea washed over you. This was wrong—so wrong.

Price wasn’t affectionate, not like this. He was always protective, but that care was reserved for his pack. You’d seen him dote on Johnny and Gaz, sure, even Ghost, and even you’d been on the receiving end of his rare tenderness yourself.

But that was you, and them—his people, his pack. Not strangers.

Your throat tightened as you watched Leah laugh at something he said, the sound soft, like a bell, and utterly incongruent with the knot twisting inside you. Price’s hand lingered on her back, his thumb tracing circles, his posture protective, as if she were someone precious to him.

It made no sense.

Laswell’s eyes were on you now, her expression unreadable. “She’s not dangerous,” she said, her voice cutting through the rising fog in your mind. “She’s human and just…different.”

Different. The word hung in the air, and your hands clenched tightly in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you tried to steady yourself. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Price, who didn’t even seem to notice you were there.

Leah’s eyes briefly flicked toward you, but they were kind, not accusing. She didn’t seem aware of how she was unravelling everything, her innocent presence disarming and unsettling all at once. You tried to muster a smile, but it faltered, your chest tightening painfully as Price continued to stand so close to her.

They were talking, their voices a low hum you couldn’t make out over the noise of the bar. His attention, his warmth, was directed entirely toward Leah, and the ache in your chest grew sharper with each passing second.

Laswell must have noticed the change in your expression, her voice softening just a little. “It’s not what you think.”

Again, you said nothing. Your heart pounded in your chest, a dull roar in your ears as Price laughed quietly at something Leah said, his hand still resting on her, far too familiar for a man who guarded his emotions so fiercely.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

A thick wave of nausea rolled through you. You pushed your chair back, the scraping sound harsh in the quiet corner of the bar.

“I need some air,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, the tension in your chest threatening to spill over.

You didn’t wait for Laswell’s response. You stood abruptly and walked toward the back door, your legs carrying you as fast as they could without breaking into a run. You didn’t look back, didn’t want to see any more of Price’s gentle touch or Leah’s oblivious smile.

The cold night air hit you the moment you stepped outside, sharp and biting. How had everything changed so quickly? When had you lost the warmth you had always taken for granted, the connection that had once felt so secure?

You needed to understand what was happening. But right now, the only thing you could do was walk away.

. . .

The days after that night at Black Mous seemed to blur together into a numb haze.

As you sat in your apothecary, hands mindlessly grinding herbs, the familiar scent of lavender and sage failed to calm you like it usually did. You glanced down at Sybil curled up at your feet, her head resting on her paws. She watched you, those deep, knowing eyes never leaving your face.

Despite her comforting company, the heaviness in your chest persisted.

The pack was your family. The men you cherished and loved.

You’d found solace in them after defecting from your coven, escaping a life where loyalty was demanded but never reciprocated. Back then, you had been alone, severed from the only community you had ever known. Until the pack had found you.

But now, the warmth they had once given you felt distant, unreachable. Their shared and cold indifference still haunted you, replaying in your mind over and over again.

You exhaled, leaning back against the counter. "What the hell, Sybil?" you muttered under your breath, tossing the pestle aside. "Am I going crazy? Did I miss something? Did I… I don’t know… offend them?"

Sybil let out a soft, almost resigned huff, her ears perking slightly, as if she were waiting for you to vent properly.

"Price, of all people," you went on, the words bubbling up from that festering pit in your chest, "he’s the last one I’d expect to act like this! I get it if Johnny or Gaz were being weird—hell, they’re always weird—but Price? With her?"

The frustration, the confusion, the hurt—it all festered inside you. You didn’t know whether to scream or cry, so instead, you grabbed a dried bundle of herbs from the shelf and chucked it at the wall.

"What's she got that I don’t, huh?!" you demanded, more to yourself than Sybil. "Some magicless girl walks in, and suddenly she’s everyone’s precious treasure? The pack’s supposed to be my family! Mine!"

At that exact moment, your magic, which had been simmering just beneath the surface, lashed out, unbidden. The elixirs on the shelves behind you started bubbling violently, the glass vials shaking with the sudden surge of angry energy.

Your breath hitched, realisation sinking in like ice water down your spine. Mine?

You shook your head, horrified at what you'd just said. You weren’t supposed to think like that. The pack wasn’t yours. They weren’t possessions. And Leah—gods, Leah was just a girl. Just a girl caught in the middle of something she probably didn’t even understand. How could you think like that?

Across the room, the cauldron you’d left simmering all evening began to overflow, thick, frothy liquid spilling onto the floor in a sticky mess.

"Oh no, no, no! Fuck!" you cried, rushing to the cauldron as fast as your feet would carry you. You waved your hands in the air, muttering a quick incantation to calm the concoction, but it only splattered onto the counter, adding to the chaos.

Sybil darted toward the corner, narrowly avoiding a bottle that tipped over, her eyes wide with dismay as she watched you try to control the magic that had slipped from your control.

"I didn’t mean it!" you shouted to the air, though whether you were talking to Sybil, the cauldron, or yourself, you weren’t sure. The bubbling elixirs finally settled, though the cauldron still dripped with sticky residue. You stood there for a moment, chest heaving, trying to collect yourself as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away.

You sighed heavily, the guilt pressing harder against your chest. "I can’t believe I said that," you whispered, wiping your hands on your apron. Leah wasn’t the enemy. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sybil watched you with quiet understanding, her head tilted to the side as if she could feel the weight of your shame. You gave her a weak smile, kneeling down to pat her head. "I messed up, Sybil. Big time. Sorry if I scared you."

The Borzoi leaned into your touch, her soft white fur calming you for a brief moment.

But the storm wasn’t over. You needed answers. You couldn’t stay here, trapped in your own head, making assumptions that might not even be true.

You stood up, brushing the last of the guilt from your mind as you took off your apron and grabbed your coat. "I have to go," you said, your voice firmer now. "I can’t keep avoiding this. If I don’t confront them, I’ll never know what’s really going on."

Sybil followed you to the door, her steps hesitant, as if she didn’t entirely approve. But you had made your decision. You needed answers, and there was only one place to get them.

With a final glance at the apothecary—still a bit of a mess, but you’d deal with that later��you flipped the open sign to closed, before opening the door and stepping into the cool evening air.

It was time to face the pack.

. . .

Your truck rattles to a stop at the edge of the familiar driveway, the engine giving its familiar grumble before falling silent. It’s a reliable old thing, though the original green paint has faded over the years and the body bears a few dings and scratches from all the runs you’ve made for the business and a few others courtesy of Sybil.

The familiar house looms ahead, standing just at the edge of the forest, where the trees cast deep shadows across the driveway. You drum your fingers over the worn steering wheel, the weight of what you were about to do finally settling fully in the pit of your stomach.

It had been a chilly evening like this when the pack had first invited you over—Johnny, with his usual boyish grin, had suggested it casually one afternoon. At first, you thought it was just a friendly gesture, an invitation to hang out, maybe share a drink or two. But when you first walked in, you quickly realised it was something much more profound.

Johnny, always more open with his affection, had slung an arm around your shoulders as he showed you around, his excitement infectious. Gaz and Price had been there too, ever the calmer ones, smiling softly as the young werewolf tattled on and on about how everything in the house worked. The warmth, the easy laughter, the feeling of being seen and wanted—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Simon had lingered in the shadows that evening, his presence a quiet but constant reassurance. He hadn’t said much, but the way he watched you, with those calculating, ever-observant eyes, had spoken volumes. It was as if he was saying, you belong here now, with us.

That one and singular moment felt heavy with meaning, especially considering the nature of two of its inhabitants. For a werewolf like Johnny, his home was more than a place to rest. It was his den, his territory—where he felt safest, most vulnerable, and where he extended that safety to those he trusted the most. And Ghost, being half-wraith and as secretive as he was, letting anyone into his personal space was almost unheard of.

The house wasn’t just a building, it was the heart of the pack, a safe haven where they laid their burdens bare.

Sybil roused from her spot on the backseat, snapping you out of your thoughts. She loved riding shotgun during short rides, but liked it better in the back whenever you planned to go on a longer drive. She yawned, long and whiny, before nudging you with her long snout.

Yeah, it was time to get a move on.

The path up to the door felt longer than usual, your heartbeat growing louder with every step. When you finally reach the door, you hesitate, swallowing hard as you gather your dwindling courage as Sybil stayed close by.

You finally raise your hand and knock. Twice and hard.

It’s a while, long a tense, before the door swings open, and Leah stands before you, her warm smile a stark contrast to the sinking unease inside you.

“Oh, hello!” she greets, her voice as pleasant and welcoming. She even waggles her fingers at Sybil. But you can’t help noticing the slight disarray in her appearance—her hair mussed, her lips faintly bruised.

You force yourself to smile, polite but tight at the edges. “Hi,” you manage, though your voice feels strained. The jealousy and hurt burn in your chest, a sharp, painful ache that only deepens with each passing second. Sybil nudges your hand gently with her muzzle, trying to offer comfort.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Is… is everyone here?” you ask, though the words feel like lead in your mouth. You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

Leah’s smile doesn’t falter. “They’re around,” she says vaguely, moving aside slightly to let you in. “Would you like to come in?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I—um, I should go,” you blurt out, the words coming faster than you intend. “I just… I’ll come back later.”

Leah looks at you, a little puzzled but still smiling. “Okay, well, you’re always welcome here.”

You nod stiffly, turning on your heel before you say something you’ll regret. Sybil follows close behind, and you nearly stumble down the steps as you make your way back to the truck, the nausea roiling in your gut.

When you reach the truck, you lean against the door, gripping the handle tightly as you suck in a shaky breath. The betrayal burns hot inside you. You’d never felt like an outsider here before—not until now.

You and Sybil climb into your truck, before starting the engine and driving away, the crunch of gravel under your tires echoing in the stillness.

The road ahead blurs as your mind races, replaying the scene with Leah over and over, the jealousy and hurt bubbling hotter with each passing second.

Suddenly, you yank the truck off the road, pulling to a stop under a stand of trees. The engine cuts off with a low grumble, but the pounding in your chest only gets louder. The cabin feels too small, too tight, as the emotions you’ve been holding back finally crash over you.

Before you even realise it, you’re crying. Big, heavy sobs tear from your throat as you bury your face in your hands. The hot, bitter tears stream down your cheeks uncontrollably, spilling into your lap as your body shakes with the force of your crying.

It’s not just jealousy now—it’s everything. The fear of losing them. The shame of your own thoughts. The realisation that maybe you weren’t as secure in the pack as you thought. It all comes crashing down, overwhelming you completely. You sob like a child, helpless and raw, gasping for air between each broken breath.

Sybil nudges you gently, her cool nose pressing into your side. You don’t look up, too embarrassed to face her, but she doesn’t care. She curls up beside you, her soft fur brushing against you. She doesn’t try to stop your crying or make it go away. She just stays there, a quiet, comforting presence, letting you feel what you need to feel.

The minutes stretch on, and slowly—so, so slowly—the sobs start to ebb. You wipe your face with the sleeve of your coat, sniffling as the tears dry up.

You let out a long, shaky breath, resting your head against the steering wheel as you try to pull yourself together. You’re not sure what you’ll do next—whether you'll face them again, or whether you’ll run....again.

But for now, you stay still, your chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths, as Sybil stays close. She’s all the comfort you need right now, and for this moment, that’s enough.

banner credit

[enhaven]

look closely | psh (m.)

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre: smut, angst?, gala!au, idk what they are

word count & rating: 4k | 18+ (minors gtfo)

summary: you've been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon lately so he's not entirely pleased when you showed up with a date after turning down his offer.

warnings/content: jealousy • dirty talk • nipple/breast play, kinda mirror sex? • rough oral sex? (fellatio/deepthroating) • voyeurism? • hair pulling • pain kink lmao, semi-public sex again 😭, phones are being used of course ;)

a/n: ik it was supposed to be hockey!hoon from the poll but this mf posted and i was seeing things smh.

to say Sunghoon was confused is an understatement.

especially when you entered the doors arm in arm with none other than his best friend.

jake? when did this happen?

a series of questions start occupying Sunghoon's mind. at first, he didn't mind you rejecting him when he asked you to be his Valentine's date. maybe it was too much for you, that going to the gala with him might give your schoolmates the wrong idea.

and as always, Sunghoon took it like a man though it did confuse him cause he thought you both were on the same page. he was planning to ask you out if you had said yes but it's probably too early for it.

for you both to be official.

you've been spending a lot of time together since the beginning of the second semester. going on dates, studying together, and fucking each other's brains out for stress relief so Sunghoon thought there was something there but now he thinks that he read everything wrongly.

he's fully aware that you don’t owe him anything but he couldn't help himself feeling a little dumbfounded going alone to this event that your department's hosting. he thought that you'd be alone too but as he watches you and Jake wandering around to find your assigned table, he's lowkey regretting not asking other girls to keep him company instead.

.

you immediately felt Sunghoon's stare as soon as you entered the doors with Jake. rejecting him wasn’t really your intention because you'll gladly be his date for this event. it’s just that everything's becoming too real and confusing when he never even asked you to be his in the first place.

that's why you've been taking your distance.

it was just a simple date for a gala though so it shouldn't have mattered to you nor mean much to Sunghoon. he’d probably have a substitute date after you declined that’s why you said yes to Jake when he asked so you won’t look like a fool just in case you see Sunghoon there with someone else.

you don’t know if Jake knew that his best friend asked you first. with how close they are, surely it should be given that he’ll be aware but the surprise on Sunghoon’s face tells you otherwise.

now you’re utterly fucked.

this could appear as a low blow to Sunghoon since Jake’s his best friend. you should've considered this possibility when you agreed to be Jake's date but it somehow slipped your mind for whatever reason. it must be the desperation in you, considering him as a blessing in disguise when he asked you pretty last minute because you were already debating on not going.

seeing Sunghoon with a date would only ruin your night even if it's your fault. so you really thank the stars that Jake decided to ask you since you're already familiar with each other. besides, he’s a very sweet guy who’s become dear to you after sharing a class with him last semester so why not?

you’ve already acknowledged your stupidity in decision making anyway so might as well go through with it.

to ease up your nerves, you try conversing with Jake as soon as you both sit down, avoiding the pull to look at Sunghoon's way who's standing by the counter. you can see his figure from your peripheral view, wondering why he's still there when everyone is settling in their seats since the program's about to start.

could he be avoiding you and Jake? or is it the many girls crowding him? still taking chances if he'd entertain them since he didn't bring a date.

you’re sure they hounded him as soon as he arrived by himself but he could be waiting for you. to see if you were alone as well based on how he reacted earlier so now the guilt has been eating you up more quickly than you anticipated.

.

Sunghoon should've picked any of those girls to sit by him as he approached your table. watching you flirt with Jake was harder for him than he initially thought.

it riles Sunghoon up that you're being so sweet with Jake, even putting your hands on his chest whether it’s intentionally or not. he couldn’t even blame his best friend cause Jake's natural charm can woo anyone who comes across him.

"hoon, man, where's your date?" his friend turns to him as he’s sitting down on the chair while Sunghoon's gaze remains on you.

"nah i don't need one," he says dismissively, quickly switching his gaze to Jake with an amused smile cause he finds it adorable that you're avoiding his eyes.

he also finds it funny how Jake seems to be clueless about this underlying tension between you two, just like how Sunghoon is with this game you're playing. 

he’s sure that he’s been so obvious but he also knows how dense his best friend could be. honestly, Sunghoon doesn’t really care either way if Jake knows whatever's going on or not. what he wants is to understand you because he couldn’t remember doing something that would have pushed you to go for his best friend instead of him.

if Sunghoon had asked anyone, they’d just tell him to move on since you basically gave your answer but he’s a driven man. plus, the way you're acting around him says enough so he smiles wickedly at himself.

this night should be fun. 

if you really don’t give a fuck about him anymore then you would've acted differently so he'll just let you play around with Jake for now.

.

the program's halfway done when you feel someone's leg nudging yours below the table. without a doubt, it’s Sunghoon’s but you're still refusing to look at him. it'll frustrate him for sure but he surprises you when he casually joins your conversation with Jake. hopefully, your date won't notice that you've been avoiding his best friend.

everything was smooth since Sunghoon was doing the same as you, engaging in normal conversations with the others at your table despite his quiet personality. except, for the nonstop heated gazes he throws your way while his long ass legs nudge yours from time to time, provoking you.

you see, ignorance is usually your forte but not when it comes to Sunghoon and he knows that. it's like he must've sensed that you're about to kick his leg away cause he suddenly gets up, excusing himself to go to the washroom.

you end up hitting the chair instead, causing you to wince lightly and grabbing Jake's attention. his best friend, on the other hand, didn’t care about it nor your glare towards his retreating figure. so instead you turn to a very worried Jake and smile reassuringly at him.

"are you sure? you can just sit down and i'll get the food for you later"

"i am jakey, don't worry" you reach out to hold his shoulder and he calms down, relief now in his eyes as you smile at him. he returns it with an even brighter smile and just then realizes how gorgeous he actually is.

but so is Sunghoon, who by the way, hasn’t come back yet. 

you backtracked cause why was he still lingering in your mind. worrying about him was even worse and it's making you restless no matter how much you shrug them away by talking more to Jake.

when dinner starts, your date rises from his seat to line up for food. he offered once again but you declined, leading for his worry to return. still needing a lot of convincing, you stand up and twirl to show Jake that you’re fine.

"see? totally okay! i'll be back okay?" you nod at him as you walk away, eyes immediately looking for Sunghoon who's nowhere to be found. you ponder his whereabouts cause he could be fucking someone right now like he used to in events like these.

the scenario your mind came up with made you uneasy. no denying on your part that seeing Sunghoon earlier with a bunch of girls made your stomach churn. you might totally lose your appetite if you somehow found him in that compromising situation. yes, it's essentially your fault because none of these feelings would be here had you said yes to him.

.

navigating around the empty halls was fortunately easy despite the intricate design of the place. the whole venue screamed classy and elegant so it took you a bit of time to find the large fancy washroom located on the upper floor because you were fawning over the interiors.

it's where you suspect Sunghoon would be instead of the ones downstairs that are usually packed with people. he's the type to find places where no one usually goes, preferring peace amid any form of ruckus.

and you were right, instantly spotting him leaning by the edge of the black marble counter with one hand in his pockets.

"took you long enough" he scoffs, looking up to you from his phone. he looks annoyed as he places it beside him but he proceeds to do you a one over that definitely didn't make you wet now that you're also taking his whole fit at once.

all formal in black with that signature hair of his that you really love.

"well thanks to you" you reply drily, recovering from that small relapse with your annoyance bubbling back to the surface. he must’ve thought it’s directed to him when you’re actually mad at yourself but you’ll let him think that way.

it's fun and this is how you usually talk anyway, bickering and teasing which you surely missed when things got awkward between you since that day.

"me? you're the one who's all over Jake" he huffs, shooting you a glare that you found amusing. he does look cute whenever he’s sulking, especially when he gets jealous although he masks it with indifference each time you call him out on it.

"he's my date hoon" you deadpan, stating the obvious which irks Sunghoon even more but he notices the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“why are you with him?” he starts, trying to sound nonchalant as he leans back. it might be hopeless and he shouldn't care this much but Sunghoon just wants to know the very reason he's alone in this gala.

“why can’t i be with jake?”

he was gonna tell you why if his ears didn't catch the teasing lilt in your tone the more you step closer to him. “isn’t he your best friend hoonie?” you add when he didn't answer, noticing his thick brows scrunching as he adjusts his gold bangle bracelets.

so you are doing it on purpose, staring him down right now with those beautiful eyes and playful smile like you didn’t break his heart weeks ago. he may acted like he was expecting you earlier but you pretty much didn’t care so he's still unsure why you followed him here when Jake's probably out there waiting for you.

maybe Sunghoon was wrong. well, he had been clearly assuming a lot of things so who knows. this could just be his inner desire hoping that you still want him.

“he is, but it doesn’t mean that i’ll share you with him” you're startled when Sunghoon grabs your waist as soon as his arms can reach you. he pulls you closer to him before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

one of your hands grasps his hair as a reflex, the other gripping his shoulders as you try to come up with a response. it's a bit hard when you can feel his breath fanning against your skin but he holds you for a bit, waiting for you to stop him.

when you didn’t, his lips touched your skin and began leaving kisses around your exposed collarbones. and since Sunghoon's been very familiar with your sensitive spots, he finds your weakest spot in the neck right away, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

“i-i’m not yours hoon” you're struggling to reply when you feel Sunghoon's smile but you love how eager he's been. aside from missing him in general, you’re deprived of his touch too since the last time you were in this position was the day you turned him down.

"no? but this one’s mine right?” both his hands move down and grab a handful of your ass, earning a surprise gasp from you. they're pretty quick too that you didn't even realize Sunghoon's pulled down your dress' plunging neckline, freeing your tits right in front of his face.

he eyes them hungrily as a hand of his stays on holding the hem, embarrassment flooding you as a result though he’s seen your bare body several times already. 

in all honesty, Sunghoon would’ve found your flower shaped pasties adorable if the circumstances were different. he teases you nonstop about them cause he secretly loves it when you wear them instead of bras, easy access each time he touches you.

despite how much he missed you, he's still pissed so he peels them off a bit harshly, eager to taste your perked nipples but he finds it absurd that you're shying away from him.

the audacity of you to come here then.

instead of putting your pasties aside, he keeps them in his pockets and you’re about to protest when his large hands are on your bare tits at once, fondling them briefly before he latches his mouth on one of them.

"h-hoon—" a loud moan slips from your lips when his tongue starts flickering your nipple, leading you to grab his hair again and push his face further on your chest. 

he occasionally bites a nipple as his palm gropes your breast, rendering you speechless at how it feels. you keep arching your back so Sunghoon's other hand returns to gripping your hips steadily.

looking down, you see Sunghoon's playfully making suctions while sucking your tits. it's his way of teasing you as he alternates on sucking both your breasts with his eyes closed, allowing your eyes to fixate on the mole in his nose that you adore.

with your breathing getting heavier every minute, suppressing your giggles has also been difficult each time his hair brushes your skin.

"hoon please.." you didn't plan on begging him but he's just too good at finding what makes you weak. watching his wet tongue and sharp canines graze your nubs didn't help either, heightening the sensation throughout your body so you couldn't help it.

but Sunghoon's a tease so you should've expected him to release your nipples with a pop after hearing your plea. with a taunting grin.

"now you're begging" he snickers, knowing exactly what you want from him. you pay no mind to it, brain’s all muddled currently at watching him lick his lower lips, eyes zeroing in on his saliva disconnecting from your buds.

you turn mute at that, not knowing how to respond to Sunghoon. the usual witty response to counter him’s nowhere to be found. all you can think of is finding ways to return to his good graces so you relent.

“yeah i am” you say quietly which surprises Sunghoon. you’re never the type to beg so he presumes that it's because you’re probably feeling guilty.

that’s why you’re here.

not really to see him but just to make him feel better.

it must be it so he proceeds to stare you down, contemplating if he’ll give you what you want. of course, Sunghoon would want to but he couldn’t possibly let you get away with this stunt you’re pulling tonight.

your exposed wet stricken breasts cause you to shiver while doing your best to maintain Sunghoon's gaze. he's making you wait too long so you softly squeeze his padded shoulders for an answer, watching his face morph back into being smug.

but before Sunghoon can even respond, you drop to your knees and look up at him with pleading eyes. he curses in his head trying to not give in right there. he's gotta keep his hardened exterior cause it's not often you’re this desperate hence why it’s one of his favourites.

“want my dick?” he teases, the familiar sly grin now plastered on his lips. you nuzzle against his clothed thigh as an answer and Sunghoon couldn’t help himself to reach out and caress your cheek.

he sees your hand reaching out and he takes it, allowing you to feel him over. then your hand fumbles to unbutton Sunghoon’s suit blazer, revealing his lean body that compliments his muscled arms.

he's fucking hot with this alone, given your kneeling position and you can't wait to finally make up to him now that he's letting you.

you're still a bit sus though that Sunghoon's making everything so easy.

he must've had other plans so you quickly pull down his pants and boxers, to have his cock in your mouth. you didn't get to though, his ringed fingers threading right through your scalp to stop you. a surprise whine and frustrating sigh escapes you but Sunghoon's enjoying seeing you like this.

“hoonie..” you coo, trying to look more deflated so he’ll release you. your earlier hunch was right and now little whore in you is excited to have his punishments again. 

you eye his cock, so angry already with the precum coated tip that you’d do anything to taste it again but Sunghoon’s firm grip on your hair reminded you of what you did.

a pout graces your lips, surely he already knows what you’ve been missing. it’s been about a week or two since the last time you fooled around with Sunghoon, the same day you rejected him.

he stares at you intently without saying a word, seemingly unimpressed with your current way of begging. you're getting conscious again, mind scrambling on what else to do to convince him but you can't think of any.

but there's one thing you both have in common, impatience. you see it in the way he grabs his dick to tease your lips with it, running the tip across the edge of your lips. your tongue darts out in hopes of catching it but he suddenly slaps it against your cheek, causing you to pathetically whine against his clothed thigh.

“suddenly this desperate? then why’d you say yes to him?” 

“i…”

you ran out of excuses just because you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon the truth. you’re not sure if he’s aware or which part of the truth he knows. if he does then it wouldn’t be a surprise. he can read you like an open book that’s why avoiding him earlier ended up being pointless.

it’s also why Sunghoon releases his grip on your hair a bit, allowing you to take his cock in your mouth. he misses the warmth your mouth is around him, the eager look in your eyes as you keep bobbing your head to please him.

well, it’s not enough. even for you, cause now he sees that familiar glint in your eyes when you want something more.

his hand didn’t leave your hair the entire time and excitement rush through you as soon as you watch him shift his stance, believing he’ll start fucking your throat.

but Sunghoon doesn't, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

instead, he pushed your head further down his cock, causing you to gag with the sudden movement. good thing you have amazing reflexes, hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose as you try to maintain eye contact.

you’re struggling when Sunghoon bunches up your hair and gives it a hard pull.

"did you really think i'd give you what you want?" he taunts, chuckling darkly as you moan around his length, the vibrations turning his laugh into a deep groan.

he would've let you with those begging eyes. he loves the desperation in them, making it one of his weaknesses. there's nothing he wants more than to fuck your throat but he can't give in that easy.

your head game's unmatched and it almost made him forget why you're here until he sees you slow your pace, intentionally taking him deeper until his tip nudges the back of your throat.

his hand returns pulling your hair, to the side this time as he picks up the phone beside him. it stings but you don't mind, letting Sunghoon control the pace of your sucking however he wants.

"so cock hungry, aren't you?" he grits his teeth, followed by a deep grunt.

he's being mean but you don't mind, nodding while your sole focus is running your tongue through the underside of his dick. to hear more of his deep grunts, now that he's mindlessly moving his hips slowly.

already anticipating it, you close your eyes to avoid the flash from Sunghoon's phone. if it'll make him forgive you then so be it.

you're not too concerned right now other than to make sure he finishes in your mouth. it boosts your ego, how you must've been doing so good for him to record you like this.

which suddenly ceased as soon as he releases your hair, his cock slipping out your drooling mouth.

"hoon?" you query, voice a bit confused as to why he's stopping you when you sense that he's close. 

"get up" he spits and you obey, a bit disappointed when you see him putting his very hard length back in his pants.

before you can protest, Sunghoon flips you around and pulls you against him. now you're both facing the other mirror in front of you while you're on his lap.

you watch Sunghoon resumes what he was doing before you begged to suck him off. he's kissing your shoulders and upper back this time, ringed hands fondling your tits again and it's increasing your desperation. you can feel how hard he is under you so you start grinding on him out of frustration, hoping he'll finally fuck you.

"w-what do you want hoonie hmm? if you d-don't wanna fuck here then.." you gasp, stammering each word as his groping becomes rougher. "we can go back to dinner then leave after..oh fuck.." you throw your head back when pinches your sensitive nipples, grabbing a handful of his hair behind you.

"pretty sure it's over by now.." he drawls after suddenly releasing you, feeling his breath against your skin as his hands move down to guide your hips. you've been watching him through the mirror this time, looking unfazed while ignoring your words.

"but you still want dessert, right jake?" he adds, shifting his eyes to someone in the corner.

realization washed over you even before following Sunghoon's eyes after hearing the name. there in the corner of the room, you see Jake standing and clutching his phone in one hand while holding the door with widened eyes.

"i was wondering where you are.." his voice echoes, eyes trained on both you and his best friend. you have no idea how long Jake's been standing there, if he saw the whole thing or what. you were too busy focusing on anything else aside from his best friend.

and if he meant you or Sunghoon he didn't specify.

you both should've stopped but his best friend has no intention of, continuing to play with you as if Jake's not there. this tells you exactly how Jake found you both. the way he wasn't entirely surprised at what welcomed him, eyes raking your half-naked form which causes you to squirm against Sunghoon's lap.

Jake looks a bit nervous but there's a slight eagerness swimming in his eyes. you wonder if this is the first time Sunghoon did this, sending him lewd videos or pictures which you honestly find kinda hot. you keep grinding against Sunghoon's cock while watching Jake's gaze fixed on your tits which Sunghoon continues to fondle, earning more needy whines from you.

"figured that he's looking for us.." Sunghoon says wryly as he stops your hips from moving, his unbothered face turning to his best friend like this is just a common scenario between them. you watch Jake gulp nervously, slowly sinking in the implication of Sunghoon's words.

you heard it clearly, his tone alone suggesting that this night's far from over.

not until he's satisfied with your apology now that you have an audience.

e/n: now let's ignore that this was supposed to be for Valentine's but i ain't gonna wait for next year to post this to be on the right season 😭

[candypot]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝗩𝗜𝗟 𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗘𝗡𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗧 : ex with attachment issues headcanons

notes: came back with more cunty content about this cunty queen

|theres NSFW mentions on this post - don’t scroll if you’re a minor|

•Probably will resent you very much for wasting his precious time, but the scale of his harshness towards you depends on the breakup reason.

• At the worst case he'll throw some light shade at you whenever you happened to be in the same room as him. It would be too impolite to just directly address his displeasure with your presence, so expect just some indirect complaints about your "exaggerated perfume" or your "disrespect towards the school etiquette”. He'll make sure to bother just enough to satisfy his hurt ego, even though he knew deep down it was ridiculous for his image as a dorm leader.

• if the breakup reason was lighter, he'll just make sure to address you with indifference and politeness like he does with any other student of Night Raven College. You might feel some sharp glares towards you sometimes or a additional rigid breath, but he'll never bother you with such a nonsense because of his unattached persona.

• Surely won't bat an eye when you pass through him on the crowded corridors of the college, Vil was an excellent actor after all and he would do everything he could to hide how much you affected him with your absence.

• But this doesn't mean you should go around underestimating his peripheral vision, in the end the day his eyes were scanning every little corner with the hope of finding you somewhere.

• Also, don't get too careless thinking you can move on quickly after the break up. If you're even thinking about seeing someone else with less than two months, be aware that he's going to come back in your life just to torment you. Vil loves to remind you how good it was to have him as a partner in times like this and also how horrible it could be to lost him forever. He'll make sure to come back to you just to make sure you drop your other options before he pushes you away again.

• Make sure you're prepared to be dragged on a vicious cycle of affection and indifference depending on his mood of the day. He missed you so much... but he had to move on from that phase as quick as possible for the sake of his career... but you had to understand that you were made to be his... but he also should stop pampering you so much after such mediocre relationship…. but you also should be more considerate with his feelings, you guys had story together... but seriously! you had to stop being so overly sensitive and leave him alone when he needed. It would be a endless and torturing cycle for the both of you, he wanted to feel worth your attention and at the same time make sure you knew what you had lost.

• Would try to push the thoughts of you to the back of his mind with the practice of physical exercise. It was honestly so stressing to not being able to focus on anything after that awful break up with such a common person! He had to clear his mind up with something or at least be tired enough to not think about it (he would probably dream about you anyway).

• Maybe he could even start seeing a therapist to read more deeply into this strange addiction he had of you. The other alternatives weren't helping to clean his mind anymore and he could notice how physically and emotionally draining it was getting to not understand his feeling towards you.

• Shamefully, hate sex would probably be a thing. It was so so so humiliating to have his thoughts wandering around you and the heated moments you guys shared together... his bed seemed so empty without your warm body trembling bellow him (or on top of him). He was so dumb to even bring you to his room in first place! How could he even sleep in such a place after all you had done in those sheets? Now it was almost as necessary as oxygen to have your lowly presence by his side again, he needed to feel your grotesque hands on him and your petulant mouth on his.

• The whole experience would be very humiliating for the both of you, nor him nor you would have the gut to admit you were constantly seeking each other behind that hatful facade. At some point, people wouldn't even bother to understand your current status of relationship anymore. Even Rook, which was the biggest stalker supporter of the both of you was tired of listening those well know noises from his roi du poison's room.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

The contract

Lewis sat at the restaurant table, his fingers drumming nervously against the wood. The soft hum of chatter surrounded him, but his mind was too occupied to notice. He still couldn't believe the situation he found himself in. Moving to Ferrari was supposed to be a dream come true, a chance to finally clinch that elusive eighth championship. But the fine print in his contract had revealed a clause he never saw coming—one that required him to fake date the daughter of a principal investor.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Lewis had reluctantly agreed, hoping it wouldn't interfere too much with his focus on racing. He had avoided learning anything about her, even refusing to see a picture. Now, as he sat waiting for her, he was regretting that decision.

He scanned the room nervously. Was she the tall blonde at the bar? Or maybe the woman with braided hair near the entrance? Each time he tried to guess, his anxiety grew. He wasn't used to feeling this uncertain, especially outside the car.

Suddenly, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. A woman approached his table, her steps light and graceful. She wasn’t the tall blonde or the girl at the entrance. No, she was something entirely different—shy-looking but undeniably gorgeous, with an aura that drew him in immediately.

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice warm but tentative as she took a seat across from him.

Lewis was momentarily speechless. She wasn’t at all what he had expected. There was a softness to her, a vulnerability that made him feel oddly protective. He struggled to find the right words, aware of the awkwardness of the situation they were both thrust into. “Hi,” he finally managed, his voice sounding more relaxed than he felt.

They sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of how to begin. It was clear that neither of them had wanted to be here, yet they were tied together by the whims of their circumstances.

"I'm Lewis, but you already know that," he began, a hint of a smile forming on his lips as he tried to break the ice. "This…isn't exactly how I imagined meeting someone."

She returned his smile, though it was laced with a bit of sadness. "I know. Trust me, this isn’t how I imagined it either. I’m Y/N."

Lewis nodded, the tension easing slightly as they exchanged names. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a more sincere tone. “Listen, I know this whole thing is awkward and not what either of us wanted, but I think we should try to make the best of it. Maybe we can at least be friends?”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes softening. There was a moment of silence as she considered his words, then she nodded. “I’d like that. I don’t want this to be harder than it has to be.”

Lewis felt a wave of relief wash over him. He hadn’t known what to expect from her, but he was glad she was open to making the best out of their situation. “I’ll be honest,” he continued, “I didn’t ask for anything about you, not even a picture. I guess I was just… trying to avoid the whole thing. But now that you’re here, I’m glad it’s you.”

A blush crept up her cheeks, and she looked down at the table, a small smile playing on her lips. “I didn’t know what to expect either. My father… well, he didn’t exactly give me a choice in this. But… I’m glad it’s you too.”

The tension between them began to dissolve as they shared a moment of mutual understanding. Despite the forced nature of their relationship, there was an undeniable attraction between them, something unspoken that they both felt but didn’t dare to acknowledge just yet.

“Let’s try to make this as painless as possible,” Lewis suggested, his voice lightening. “And who knows, maybe it won’t be as bad as we think.”

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “Maybe it won’t be.”

From the moment the paparazzi caught them at that restaurant, the world knew Lewis Hamilton had a new girlfriend. The headlines were relentless, splashing their faces across every gossip magazine and sports outlet. Ferrari’s phone call had come the next morning, their tone brisk and businesslike, confirming that the ruse had worked. The deal was sealed—Lewis had his seat, and Y/N was now officially his partner in the public eye.

Their newfound status as a couple meant they were seen everywhere together. Fashion shows in Copenhagen, the Olympics in Paris, and now, the paddock—a place where Lewis felt most at home, and Y/N was gradually getting used to. As they arrived, hand in hand, cameras flashed and reporters clamored for a closer look. The media was eating it up, fascinated by the unexpected pairing of the famous racing driver and the enigmatic girl who had captured his heart.

Y/N felt a little out of place among the chaos of the paddock, but Lewis was by her side, his presence reassuring. He kept a firm but gentle hold on her hand, guiding her through the maze of people and flashing cameras. She was surprised by how protective he had become, how his hand would instinctively move to her back when the crowd got too close, how he’d position himself slightly in front of her when the press got too aggressive.

They had spent a lot of time together lately, partly for the cameras, but also because they had genuinely started to enjoy each other’s company. Over countless dinners, late-night talks, and shared moments in the back of chauffeured cars, they discovered they had more in common than either had expected. Y/N’s career as a musician had taken her around the world, performing in orchestras from London to Tokyo. Music was her passion, and it was something that Lewis could relate to on a deep level.

“I didn’t know you were so into music,” Y/N had said one evening as they sat in a quiet corner of his hotel suite, a jazz record playing softly in the background.

Lewis had smiled, leaning back into the couch. “It’s one of the few things that helps me relax. When I’m not racing, I’m usually listening to something or trying to learn a new instrument. I’m nowhere near your level, but I love it.”

That shared love of music had become a bridge between them, something that felt real in the midst of everything else that was staged. And now, as they stood in the paddock, surrounded by the roar of engines and the bustle of the racing world, it felt like a piece of that connection grounded them in the whirlwind of their public lives.

Y/N looked up at Lewis, his face partially hidden behind sunglasses, his jaw set in that determined way she had come to recognize. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

She nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ve got you,” he said simply, and she believed him.

As they moved through the paddock, stopping occasionally to chat with team members or sponsors, the romantic tension between them was palpable. Every time their hands brushed or their eyes met, it was as if the world faded away for a moment, leaving just the two of them. It was confusing, this pull she felt toward him. The relationship was supposed to be fake, a means to an end, but the way he looked at her sometimes made her wonder if there could be more.

Lewis, for his part, was wrestling with similar thoughts. He had agreed to this arrangement out of desperation for that eighth championship, but he hadn’t expected to care about Y/N as much as he did. He found himself wanting to protect her, to shield her from the pressures of the spotlight. And every time she smiled at him, every time she laughed at one of his jokes, he felt that protectiveness deepen into something more complicated.

As they walked past the Ferrari garage, one of the mechanics waved them over. “Hey, Hamilton! Bringing us good luck with your new charm?” the man joked, giving Y/N a friendly nod.

Lewis laughed, pulling her closer. “She’s the best good luck charm I’ve got.”

Y/N blushed, but she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. The mechanic grinned and went back to his work, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Y/N said softly, looking up at him. “You don’t have to keep pretending even when we’re not in front of the cameras.”

Lewis turned to her, his expression serious. “I know. But it’s not just for the cameras anymore. I want to protect you, Y/N. This world can be… overwhelming, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re in it alone.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his voice undeniable. “Thank you, Lewis,” she whispered, feeling the weight of his gaze.

He smiled down at her, his hand lingering on her back, and for a moment, the chaos of the paddock disappeared again. It was just them, standing together, closer than they ever thought they would be. The lines between what was real and what was fake were beginning to blur, and neither of them knew what to do about it. But for now, they were content to let things unfold, taking each day as it came, with the unspoken hope that maybe—just maybe—this could become something more.

If you've enjoyed part 1 here's part 2 of the story:

https://www.tumblr.com/swiftiethatlovesf1/759708438423060480/omg-i-loved-the-contract-fic-so-much-do-you-plan?source=share

[neiptune]

better safe than starry eyed

cw: 2k+ wc, female reader, your fwb arrangement with oliver aiku is not going well as in: he's catching feelings and is unable to deal with it like an adult

Oliver’s lavish aparment is uncharacteristically unlit when you walk in and your brows stay furrowed for just a moment, before the candles in your peripheral catch your attention.

“Hello?”, for a brief second you think you walked through the wrong door. That is until the familiarity of a grin has your muscles relaxing.

“Hi beautiful”, he welcomes you into his living room, sleeves of a pristine white shirt rolled to reveal thick forearms, “you’re late”.

Like clockwork, Oliver’s familiar hands find their designated place on your hips and you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Dinner?”, you playfully glance over at the richly set table, “did you hit your head?”.

“Not a nice way to talk to the guy who spent the last hour cooking”, he starts rubbing soothing circles right above your hips, slightly pushing the skirt of your dress up in the process.

Oliver knows you’re confused, taken aback: this is not what he does, it’s not what you see each other for. But what you don’t know is that tonight is special. Tonight is the night he ends things with you.

“You cooked? We’re gonna end up poison-”, you yelp when he lightly pinches your side, a quiet laugh muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“You are gonna beg for my forgiveness once you taste that chicken”, he grumbles. His scowl is so cute you giggle but when you try to kiss him, Oliver suddenly takes a step back.

“Dinner first. S’gonna get cold”, the wink he offers doesn’t entirely dissipate your perplexity.

He helps you into your seat by pulling out the chair and servers you both a generous portion of a suspiciously inviting dinner. Everything would be perfectly normal, charming even, if this was your normal. Which is not.

Oliver refuses to smile under your doubtful stare, a game of cat and mouse he was never really able to win. You’re smart, smarter than him, which ultimately is what led him into this mess.

He knows it’s partially his fault: what was supposed to be and stay as an uncomplicated arrangement, convenient for both sides, soon ended up being much more intricate than what he had anticipated. See, Oliver was never supposed to ask you to spend the night. You were never to be in his kitchen in the morning, sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee you’d allow him to sip from as he put together eggs and rice for breakfast. He was never supposed to pick you up from work if the weather was exceptionally bad, the thought of you squeezing in a subway filled with people to the brim was not supposed to bother him. You were not supposed to become part of his routine, you really should’ve just stayed the woman he’d fuck into his mattress when he craved relief.

Oliver isn’t sure you’re aware of the way you slipped yourself, failing to honor the agreement as much as him. Always so attentive, caring, texting him that you had sent him lunch because he always forgets to grab some, calling just to ask about his day, spending the entire night tangled in sheets just talking and talking as he keeps you close. It’s not what he wants, nor what he needs, so it’s time to put a permanent stop to it.

He remembers accidentally meeting your friends a few days back. You don’t do dates, you were just there to casually grab a cup of coffee and he casually didn’t feel like waiting in the car. Oliver paid for your order without batting an eye and your heated objections catched the attention of a small group of people, who happened to recognize your voice. They knew who he was and after making some polite conversation, Oliver excused himself to go to the bathroom. Right as he came back, he accidentally overheard your friends passionately warning you against him: player, notorious cheater, better off with someone normal were the words he managed to catch.

It was perfectly reasonable behavior, he thought. Oliver remembers stopping by the table, gaze flickering to your serious face right after you murmured something he didn’t quite hear. He knew you were too genuine to straight up lie, tell them he’s the best man you’ve ever met, someone who carried much more than his reputation. He also knows, deep down, you started thinking there is more to him. And Oliver doesn’t want to deceive you, not you of all people.

He likes you much more than what he should be allowed to and that can’t happen. Still, you deserve better than a half assed parting of the ways over the phone, the usual excuses he’d come up with. He’s still selfish enough to hope you’ll decide to stay one more night, even after his signature asshole retreat. Either way, you at least deserve dinner.

“Oliver”, you murmur, “are you okay?”.

“Never better”, he flashes you a grin, “why are you not eating? I swear it’s good”.

“You’re literally shaking”.

Oliver clicks his tongue, distractedly pulling his sleeves down to conceal the skin covered in goosebumps.

“I’m fine”.

With the same stubborness that drives him insane, you get up from your seat and try to touch his hand. He pulls back.

“Jesus, just let me-”, you finally succeed in taking his face in your hands and your jaw slacks, “Aiku!”.

“I’m good”, he repeats, irked by how foreign you make his government name sound by now, “can we just have dinner?”.

“No, you idiot. Take your clothes off right now”.

He has the nerve to chuckle as you tug at his shirt to make him rise from the chair. Oliver sways a little once he’s on his feet and you sigh, exasperated.

“Why don’t you take your clothes off?”, he smiles.

“You’re incredible”, as you start quite literally dragging him to his bedroom, you shake your head in utter disbelief, “why didn’t you just cancel?”.

“I never cancel”, it’s not entirely true, sometimes he does cancel. As in, he disappears without warning never to return again.

Once he flops down onto his bed, arms loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand between his parted legs, Oliver rests his forehead against your chest. You start unbuttoning his shirt and when he helps you take it off, he shivers again.

“I can change on my own, you know”, he offers a weak smile when you glare at him. He doesn’t love that you take a step back right away, hands raised.

“Good. Do it, then”.

Oliver complies, something strange and foreign clutching his chest when you leave the room. Just like that.

When he crawls into bed, the covers too cold on his fevered skin as he keeps trembling, he waits to hear the sound of his front door shutting. The clear signal that will indicate that you have left without giving him the chance to do what needed to be done. A pang of nausea makes his insides churn.

After what feels like forever, something cool and soft is suddenly placed on his forehead and, when he opens his eyes again, you’re incredibly still there, looking at him with an odd mix of affection and irritation.

“Got you some medicine. Drink it, then sleep”.

“You’re hot when you’re in charge”, he murmurs, to which you scoff. Oliver sits up with a groan, obediently takes the medicine and drinks the water you brought him, lets you dab his cheeks and forehead with the damp piece of cloth. When he feels better, he’s going to kick Shuto in the face for making him sick too.

“Is this why you wouldn’t let me touch you?”.

He ignores the question.

“I can still-”

“We are not having sex, Aiku”.

“But what if it heals me?”.

“Oliver, shut up. Close your eyes”.

He does what he’s told and not just because his head is straight up throbbing. Definitely not because you said his name again.

What is he even doing? He’s supposed to at least try. You weren’t to understand he’s not feeling well and he is definitely not supposed to flirt with the one person he needs to get rid of as quickly as possible. Fuck.

“You should leave”, he manages to utter, eyes still shut. You’re sitting on the bed, probably wearing that protective look you always get on that pretty face whenever someone you could somehow help happens to be around.

“It’s fine”, you murmur, one hand distractedly carding through his hair. Oliver tries as hard as he can to keep his eyes closed.

Maybe he can be selfish for a few minutes more. Who knows when he’s going to see you or hear your voice again? You’re soon going to hate him, resent him. He just hopes you never completely regret him. Oliver knows he won’t regret you.

“Go eat something”, he croaks.

“Not hungry. I always eat before coming over, you know, since you’re a terrible-”

“You’re being mean. I’m literally on my deathbed right now”.

You chuckle.

“I just eat because we don’t really do that. What’s up with dinner, tonight? Why go through all that trouble?”.

Oliver stops himself before his stupid tongue runs, the admission sitting heavy in his mouth. No trouble at all. I actually fucking lowkey enjoyed doing it.

When he doesn’t reply, you assume he’s either falling asleep or trying to. You gently feel his temperature again, the back of your hand on his warm cheek. He looks so vulnerable, it makes you want to kiss him. A dangerous thought.

Oliver is not asleep, he weakly reaches for your hand and briefly presses it to his lips before gently placing it on the covers, away from him. His eyes are still shut when he speaks.

“You should leave”, he says again, sternly this time.

“I can stay. What if you need help-”

“I fucked someone else today. I will again tomorrow”.

He doesn’t see it but he feels it, the way you quietly jerk. It’s unexpected, despite the arrangement between you too being far from exclusive. He knows you’re not upset because he’s seeing other people, it’s the way he’s telling you. It’s the reason why he’s telling you.

Oliver is not lying, he wouldn’t lie to you. He really did fuck other people the last few days, over and over actually, an attempt at pushing whatever you are doing to him, whatever you’re making him feel, out of his system. It felt different, it felt weird and foreign and not you. Which is why you can’t belong there anymore.

“I understand”, you say, calm. Not a quiver to your voice because why would there be any? You’re an adult. You can face things. He’s just a man and not even a particularly good one, you will find better.

It takes everything in him not to grab your arm and pull you into his chest when he feels your lips gently press to his cheek once you get up from the same bed you’ve shared so many times. It’s probably the fever but oh, he’s going to miss you.

Oliver dreams of you that night, in between violent shivering, sweat and full-body aches. He wakes so many times but only opens his eyes once, lets his gaze wander around the dark room, and his heart thumps violently in his chest when he sees what looks like your silhouette uncomfortably curled up in the armchair on the other side of the bedroom. He’s sure it’s not real, you couldn’t possibly still be there at 4 in the morning.

You considered respecting his implicit request, really. You wanted to leave. But then you looked at him and it once more painfully struck you. Always alone, in a big city, in an even bigger house, his family not close enough to be there if he gets sick, his friends wouldn’t be called in the first place because god forbid Oliver asks for someone’s help.

You only stay because he’ll never know. You stay because you don’t want to leave him, always so obstinate and difficult, even if it means breaking your heart a little more. You won’t hold it against him, even if he most probably would want you to: Oliver doesn’t realize how badly he chooses to damage himself each time, what he does is far worse than the silly sadness he burdens your chest with. You know he likes you, it’s just unfortunate he wouldn’t trust himself with that.

Oliver wakes up with every single muscle in his body aching, the sweatshirt he sleeps in stuck to his clammy back. His eyes dart to the empty armchair and the relief he feels is bitter. It turns into something more complex when he shuffles to the living room, the table he worked so hard to set now perfecly empty, food probably stored in plastic containers he’ll find in the fridge. Because of course you’d do that.

He sits by the counter, the low buzz of the coffee machine echoeing in a painfully empty apartment. And then, the memory washes over him like a tidal wave.

Once again, Oliver feels just how overwhelmingly bad he wanted to prove your friends wrong.

[idlerin]

love sick — 08. we can be friends

romance 101; ideal partner #9 — someone i feel safe around

email from yesterday evening

you didn’t want to think terushima was a bad person, exactly.

semi and atsumu would look at you judgingly if you ever said that out loud in front of them, but it was the truth. terushima lacked self-awareness, he was a do or die person, which meant he acted before he thought. which wasn’t good at all, for him or anyone else he decided to bother, and he needed serious correcting, but that should’ve been the job of the people who raised him. he was the textbook definition of man-child.

“babe!” terushima exclaimed, looking genuinely happy to see you. looking over his shoulder, his dyed blonde hair reminds you of atsumu in this moment, who you spot laughing maniacally with jai—clearly too occupied to notice your little situation.

you decide to accept your fate and look up at terushima, “oh, hi,” you greet back awkwardly. you were restless, gaze focusing on your peripheral vision and hoping to spot the person you were looking for so you could grab him and go back to his team.

“I knew i’d find you here,” terushima grinned, proud of himself, “you’re not usually at places like these but i figured since you’re dating that suna dude you’d be here, and i was right!”

“ah yeah,” you nodded, stepping back to hopefully avoid the conversation entirely, “nice running into you—” not, “but i was actually on my way to look for—,” you were cut off before you could say rin.

“your boyfriend?” terushima smirked, it was weird in a way as if he knew something you didn’t, “saw him outside with some chick, I told you babe, he’s no good.”

your mouth hung in slight, you don’t recall suna saying he was seeing someone. in fact, the reason he started this with you was because he was trying to get away from people fawning over him. that didn’t make any sense, so it was probably just someone suna knew and terushima was taking it the wrong way. you guessed that was probably why suna took so long, he could’ve at least texted you.

you shake away the thought and focus on terushima obviously trying very hard to bad-mouth rin, brows furrowing, “that’s probably just his friend.”

“they didn’t look friendly,” terushima clicked his tongue, “i’m telling you, he’s being a bad boyfriend.”

“i’d rather talk to rin about it,” you offered him a small smile, you watched as his expression turned sour.

“why can’t you just believe me?” he practically whines.

your smile becomes strained, “i think i’ll just go and look for rin now,” you try to sidestep him but terushima grabs your wrist.

“talk to me more for a bit,” terushima says, gaze heavily focused on you “he’s still busy out there.” “i told you,” tone hardening, eyeing your wrist he held onto tightly, “i’d rather check on him and ask now,” you attempt to tug your wrist away from his grip.

in the middle of successfully doing so, you bump into someone. you were about to apologize but then this person spoke over you, “i was looking for you, sweets,” your eyes widened for a bit realizing it was the person you’d been looking for, of course he decided to show up now, you think how cliché and typical it was.

you look up at him, his jaw set just as he wraps an arm around your waist, “who’s this?” it took a second before realizing he was talking about terushima who was still in front of you both.

“i’m terushima, [name]’s friend,” terushima nods at him, answering for himself and giving suna a big fake smile.

“does she know that?” suna mumbles, something only you heard, making your lips twitch. his hand on your waist pulling you closer towards him.

“what?” terushima asked before shaking his head, “whatever man, if you don’t mind, she and i were talking.”

“i mind,” suna says, looking bored of this already, “we’re going.”

terushima looked dumbfounded, clearly not used to suna’s straightforwardness. terushima couldn’t utter another word before suna was already pushing you forward and away from him.

suna leans down, whispering in your ear, “thought you had no crazy ex?”

“i don’t,” you sigh, troubled, “he just… bothers me.”

suna didn’t take that very well, “and you don’t do anything?” he looked down at your wrist pointedly.

“it’s fine,” you say instead, smiling to placate him, “thank you, though.”

suna bites his inner cheek, ultimately deciding to leave the topic online, “i didn’t get to get your water, i was…” he was looking for the right word, “preoccupied.”

“terushima told me he saw you with someone outside,” you confess, looking at him to see any signs of anything, suna was still really hard to read, “he was saying it as if you were ‘cheating’ on me,” you whispered this part, “it would be bad if he tattled, but i don’t think he will.”

“how are you so sure?” suna doesn’t deny what terushima saw.

“he’s trying to make it up to me somewhat,” you offer that same old small smile of yours, “he wouldn’t intentionally do something that might damage my reputation or something after he uh did it before.”

“alright,” suna chooses not to question you further about terushima which you were thankful for, “can we leave now?”

“it hasn’t been an hour yet,” you check your phone, it’s only been around forty minutes.

“do you want to stay for longer?” suna moves you away from a drunk person passing by, still holding your waist.

“not really,” you say, it didn’t seem like suna was in the mood to be here too and you think you’ve won over his teammates already and showed off your relationship enough.

“we can go and get some yakitori, it’ll make up for your water,” suna offers, to your surprise. you thought he’d just want to drop you off and be alone.

“sure,” you agree, albeit still a little confused with the way he’s been acting all night.

suna nodded before leading you back to his teammates, saying your goodbyes. they didn’t question you leaving early, maybe suna has a habit of doing that? you explicitly tell atsumu to not injure himself going home. suna interrupted saying that bad weeds never die so you didn’t have to worry. it didn’t take long before the both of you were back in his car.

“i wasn’t ‘cheating’ by the way,” suna says after he settles in, starting the engine.

you arrange your bag on your lap nicely, “i didn’t think you were, rinnie bear.”

suna shakes his head, “at least you know i’m loyal.”

“what can i say? i know how to choose them right,��� you shrug, grinning. this, this was easy, pretending like everything was completely fine. you were worried about his mood, the mystery person he talked to for twenty or so minutes, and him in general but you had no right to force your questions on him.

you haven’t known suna for long but you guessed he wouldn’t take it kindly if you asked about things that were none of your business. you didn’t know what was happening to suna, but you’d wait for him to reach out to you first. these past several days have made you kind of friends, after all.

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

[name] forced her friends to be on locket and airbuds with her.

sakusa was also decidedly not at the party because he was catching up on some papers (good excuse to not go).

atsumu doesn’t really drink frequently (just when he knows there’s no important tournaments upcoming bc he’s locked in on volley)

you can send your love stories or woes at letterwithlove.name@gmail.com and receive a reply :)

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this is in no way a professional thing, it's for fun so you guys can send in a made up story or something based on real life stuff but i will always respond seriously as “reader” and the best way i can :)

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — partially doing the email thing bc its getting hard to think of scenarios PLEEK JEDOEKDJ i mean i still can… i base them off irl or books ANYWAYS ill try to grind as many chaps as i can before school starts (keyword: try) bc like i am brewing smth up also also will close the taglist soon!!

taglist is OPEN ! + (1/3) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep

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